Saving Grace
by loveintheimpala
Summary: Twelve years after the death of their sister, Sam and Dean stumble upon a mysterious girl. There is not only a perfect resemblance between her and their dead sibling, but she has no idea who she really is. Is she really their sister, and together can they discover what really happened to their family all those years ago?
1. Haley Grace Winchester: Prequel

_Welcome to my new fanfiction! _

_In this chapter of the story, Dean is 18, Haley is 16, and Sam is 14. (This will change in future chapters though as the first is only a prequel). _

_Hope you all enjoy, thank you for reading, and let me know what you think!_

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><p><span><strong><strong>Saving Grace<strong>**

**Chapter One: Haley Grace Winchester: Prequel**

_January, 1997 — Boulder, Colorado _

It had started out as a normal, standard day for the Winchesters. There hadn't been anything too special or out of the ordinary about it—nothing had seemed different, there had been no signs to indicate what was to come, and nothing there to give the small family a warning of the tragic loss they were soon to experience that fateful night.

It had been a Saturday, just a typical, cold Saturday in January. It had been raining hard—thick and perpetual drops of water that tapped down loudly against the thin glass windows and roof of the small motel room. The rain had been pouring down for the whole week that they had been there, and over the past couple of days the wind had started, harsh and unforgiving to anyone who should walk through it.

A young, brown haired girl rounded the corner of yet another deserted street, speeding up her fast pace until she was once again sprinting down the pavement. She glanced back over her left shoulder, making sure that the road was clear, before she ran across it to the other side. Her heartbeat became gradually faster until she could feel it thumping forcefully against her burning chest. She blinked hard to expel the rain drops from her long eyelashes, giving her wide and bright green eyes a better focus through the wet streets, the ground shining slightly under the dim glow of the street lamps. Her long and light brown hair, with pink and blue streaks running through it, was pulled back and stuck to her head as a result of the amount of rain that had fallen over it in the past couple of hours. Her tracksuit jacket, navy blue but looking almost black with the dampness, stuck to her tanned skin.

The teenage girl running through the rain was Haley Winchester. A sixteen year old girl who was known for having no past and no future—just another one of those kids that every teacher she'd ever had assumed had fallen through the cracks, who had never done anything with her life. Sure, she had made it to sixteen without ever having a straight-A report card, or even a few As on her report card, in fact, she had no future at all when it came to education as far as she were concerned. In her mind, the quicker she was suspended or thrown out of school, the better the situation was for everybody involved.

Although, that wasn't to say that she was dumb. She was pretty smart when she put her mind to it, but she didn't always like to show it. She wasn't a kid who had ever put too much thought into her education—or her own future for that matter—always standing by the fact she didn't need a bunch of pointless qualifications and a future career goal if she were so adamant about heading into the family business.

It wasn't as though she was a bad kid, sure, she had gotten herself into trouble now and again, but how many teenagers didn't? She'd been through her stage of rebellion when she had streaked her hair and pierced her nose, she was over it. When it came down to it, the only thing that she really cared about was her family—her small, slightly dysfunctional, kind of crazy, family.

Haley slowed herself down as her eyes fell to the motel in the distance. She could make out the blurred lights coming from the neon blue sign above it, and through the windows of the occupied rooms. She jogged closer before she slowed down, walking over the parking lot as she headed towards one of the doors. She wiped a hand down her face, dripping with rain, before she headed inside.

The warm air of the motel room was a shock to her body as she came in from the icy rain and cold winds outside, hitting her at once. A short laugh came from the other side of the room as she closed the door behind herself. "My god," A deep voice muttered slowly, a note of amusement present as he spoke. She looked up to the source and smiled. He straightened himself up slowly from where he had been halfway through taking a beer from the refrigerator and kicked the small door closed with his boot, shaking his head to himself as he looked over her. "I don't understand why you insist on jogging in the rain, Hales." he said simply, looking at a loss. "I mean, if you're going to torture yourself, you could at least do it when the weather's nice." he quipped.

Haley rolled her eyes at him. She was so used to the constant bombardment of jokes and wise cracks from him, she just went along with them. "Very funny, Dean." She smirked a little as she walked further into the room. Her brother, Dean, was only two years older than her, but a lot of the time he acted as though it were so much more. Haley and Dean had a pretty simple relationship; they either got on or they didn't.

There were times where Dean acted like he was her dad, the overprotective and watchful nature of his would take over completely and he would act like it was his mission to keep her safe, as though everything else in the world was some kind of danger towards her. It was the mood he got into mostly at any given chance of some male attention for her.

Then there were the times that they would argue, the way that most siblings did from time to time, when they wouldn't speak to each other at all. It never lasted long, a few hours at the most usually, but sometimes, when they got really mad, it could last so much longer. They would refuse to look at each other, refuse to speak to each other unless it was some snide remark to just provoke the other further. On the rare occasion that Dean and Haley got into fights, everyone else would just take a step back and think it better to let them get on with it and sort it out between themselves. No one wanted to be caught in the crossfire of that.

But, the majority of the time, the mood that the two of them seemed to be in pretty much every day, was where they were like best friends, rather than brother and sister. They would get into childish little arguments and fights, they would laugh and joke between each other—the way that any friends did together. They would talk with each other about anything, skip school together and get into trouble with each other, and they would _always _fight together. That was the way that they had always been. They would defend and fight for each other in a heartbeat, no matter how wrong the other one was. They would trust the other with their own lives, never giving it a second thought.

Dean just smiled at her and set his beer down on the side as he poured out a mug of coffee. He held it out to her as she peeled off her soaking wet jacket and draped it over the back of a chair before she took the mug from him. "You look freezing, Hales." Dean commented. There was a small hint of concern in his voice, something that he would do anything to hide, but it was something that she could always pick up on.

It wasn't like her going out jogging every now and again bothered him, as far as he were concerned if she wanted to torture herself like that, fine. It wasn't even the fact that he didn't think she were capable of defending herself if something happened, because he was more than sure that she could. The thing that bothered him was that if something happened to her, he wouldn't have been there to protect her. Despite how tough he knew she was, and how well she could fight, there was always the feeling in the back of his mind that she was still a kid, and that she could still get hurt. However much he played it off, he still worried about her—he always would.

Haley chose not to answer that one. She took a drink of the coffee and looked around the room slowly before she turned back to Dean and raised an eyebrow. "Where's Sam?" she asked him curiously. She usually came back to the two of them having an argument, bickering between themselves over nothing, often sparked up out of pure boredom.

Haley and her younger brother, Sam, had a similar relationship to what she had with Dean. The two of them were just as close, but sometimes in a different way. Haley would be the one who Sam would go to first with any problem that he had, whether that was with school or hunting or otherwise. She would help him with his schoolwork, even when she made no attempt to do her own, and she had been the only one that Sam had ever talked to about college, or wanting to do something in the future that wasn't hunting. A part of him had expected her to be angry, the way he knew Dad would have been, but she hadn't. She had been all for him working towards something else if that was what he wanted. He counted on her to support him with whatever he needed, which, along with Dean, she always had done. He had always trusted her with whatever he had told her, and unbeknown to her, he had always looked up to her in the same way that he looked up to Dean.

In a way, Sam had often considered Haley and Dean to have the role of the mom and dad that he had never really known. They had always put him first, made sure that he was okay before they bothered about themselves. Being the youngest, Sam had always depended on them to be there for him, the way he knew Haley depended on Dean. He had never once doubted that either of them would protect him from anything that wanted to harm him, or that they would sacrifice everything for him, they way that he knew he would do for them. And he trusted them both with his life.

Dean nodded towards the bedroom door behind her. "He's in his room." he replied simply. "Doing some homework or reading a book or something, I think." He shrugged, Sam's educational activities usually had him at a loss. "Not sure."

"Well, I'm not surprised that he couldn't concentrate in here when you're playing that crappy music so loud." Haley countered, nodding over at the radio currently playing some rock song that she had heard all too many times in the past couple of days since Dean had located a rock station.

Dean shot her a glare as she turned it down. "Come on, you love this band and you know it." he retorted, turning the music back up even louder just to prove his point, a grin spreading across his face as he did.

Haley breathed out a short laugh and shook her head slowly. "You're an idiot, Dean." she muttered, her tone light and playful. "You know that, right?"

"Oh," Dean quirked an eyebrow at her and smirked. "You think so, do you?" he challenged, smirking even harder as he stepped forwards.

Haley narrowed her eyes at him before he made a move and wrapped an arm around her neck, grabbing her in a headlock. "Dean!" she yelled over the music. "Get off me!" She laughed and elbowed him in the ribs, making a lame attempt to fight him off her. He had always been too strong for her, unless she were fighting properly with intent to hurt him, which she didn't unless they were training, Dean always won.

They stopped their fighting at the sound of a door opening behind them. They both turned, Haley still in Dean's hold, to see Sam standing in the doorway of his room, seemingly coaxed out by the amount of noise the two of them had been making. He looked between them slowly and raised an eyebrow, momentarily debating with himself whether he really wanted to ask. He was so used to the two of them acting like kids, he just didn't get involved anymore. He couldn't help but smile, taking some comfort in the thought that they could let go of the amount of responsibility they placed on themselves everyday and laugh together. He knew how much they worried about him, about Dad, but they covered it all up, because that's what they'd been trained to do. They pushed everything down and ignored the pain.

"What the hell are you guys doing in here?" Sam gave a short laugh as he crossed the room towards them. Haley shot a punch to Dean's arm as he finally let go of her, turning back to face Sam. "And is one of you going to pick up some food? I'm starving." he pressed, looking between them for a reaction. "You know, Dean, some of us are still growing."

Haley laughed at that, she and Sam getting nothing more than a light smack on the back of the head from Dean in response. Despite what their Dad did for a living, and despite the job that they were trained to do, sometimes when the three of them were alone they were like a normal family. It might not have been the same as every other kid they went to school with, but when they laughed and joked around with each other, it _felt _normal. They were okay when they were together, because they were a team.

"I'll go pick up some food." Haley said lightly as she reached out and turned off the radio. She picked up the remote and turned on the tv, shooting Dean a look that dared him to challenge her.

Dean paused and raised an eyebrow at the insignificant movie playing on the small tv, they'd all seen it before, the standard motel channels always repeated themselves. He didn't know it then, but it was a movie that he would never be able to watch again because every single time that he would see it—everytime he would see the bad acting or hear the bland dialogue—it would spark up the same grievous thought; 'that was the movie playing on tv the night that Haley died.'

"Leave your brother alone while I'm gone." she smirked up at Dean as he handed her a twenty.

Dean just grinned at her. "You kidding?" he countered, raising his eyebrows at her as though her comment was nothing but ridiculous. She rolled her eyes and grabbed her jacket from the back of the couch, that one much more suitable for the lousy weather outside, and pulled it on. "Hey, I don't mind going, you know," Dean offered, his voice genuine. "You should get a shower before you catch pneumonia or something." he added seriously.

Haley gave a small shrug, gesturing to her rain soaked clothes. "I'm already wet, I might as well." She smiled. "Besides, there's no point in us both getting ill, right? I don't think I can cope with you having your man-flu again." she retorted. Dean shot her a glare, shaking his head slowly. "Come on, you were bad." she argued before he had a chance to deny it.

Sam nodded. "Haley, I'm dying. Sam, do this, Hales, do that, this is the end." he mocked, grinning up at him. Before Dean even had the chance to argue with either of them, Sam turned and headed back to his room. "You're the best, Haley." he called back over his shoulder before the door slammed closed behind him.

Dean let out a laugh at him and turned back to face Haley. "Be careful, alright?" he warned. "A lot of crazy people go jogging at night, you know."

Haley smiled at him. It was his usual way of telling her to keep herself safe without sounding like he actually cared. In his head, if he added some lame joke at the end of it, it sounded like he was just kidding around, rather than giving the impression that he actually worried about her. But they both knew different, she wasn't sure why he even bothered sometimes.

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, love you too, Dean." she quipped.

Dean just smiled at her. "I mean it, Hales." he added, all aspects of joking gone from his voice.

Haley looked up at him and nodded seriously. "Course." she replied. "Won't be long."

With that, she gave a bright smile, the last one that Dean would ever see, and turned to the door before she left the room—left the room and headed down the street, unknowingly walking towards her death.

Haley sighed lightly as she headed over the parking lot. She pulled her jacket tighter around herself in a lame attempt to shield herself from the icy wind, making a mental note that next time she wouldn't be so nice and that she would let Dean go on the food run. The sky above her was now black, the dark clouds threatening nothing but more harsh rain. She walked a little quicker, her arms folded tightly across her chest, and thought about something other than the cold rain running down her face. She fastened her jacket to the top of her neck and audibly sighed as a loud jolt of thunder crashed above her in the sky.

She slowed down as her eyes fell to a man standing in the middle of the street ahead, looking straight at her. She glanced back over her shoulder and frowned, the streets around them were completely deserted of people other than the two of them. His hands were hidden in his jacket pockets, a small but malicious smile on his face as though he were waiting for her. He looked to be in his forties, with short brown hair and a worn jacket. For a second, she contemplated turning around and walking the other way, something about him unnerving her slightly, but she shook her head and snapped herself out of it. She cleared her throat and looked away from him, heading on down the street and passing him quickly without looking back.

Within a couple of seconds she could hear heavy footsteps behind her, growing gradually louder until she could feel the presence of someone walking right behind her. Haley held her breath and slowed down slightly, just to see what he would do. Not to her surprise, he did the same, keeping the same short distance between the two of them. She stopped dead in her tracks and turned to face him, and a smile grew on his face as she did.

"You know, a pretty young girl like you shouldn't be out all alone at night in the rain," he said to her simply, glancing up and down the deserted street casually. "Anything could happen."

Her fists clenched at her sides, ready for a fight if that were the way it turned out. "Why are you following me?" she asked, keeping her voice hard, refusing to let any sign of fear or vulnerability slip through into her words.

The man seemed to ponder on his answer for a few seconds, pulling a face as he thought about it. "'Why' is never a good question to ask, Haley," he replied flatly. "You'll never get the answer you _really _want to hear." Haley took a wary step back from him the second that he'd said her name. It was never a good sign when the creepy stalker guy knew your name. Something in the back of her mind screamed at her to turn and run, to not stop until she was back at the motel room, but she stood her ground, determined not to let on that she was scared. "Where's your Daddy, Haley?" he pressed, taking a step forwards to close the gap she had created.

Haley narrowed her eyes, if he wanted her Dad she could take a guess that there was a good chance he wasn't human. She had no weapons on her, no knife, no gun, nothing—if he tried anything, she was pretty much screwed. "He's nowhere near here," she muttered. "Why?"

In truth, she didn't know where her Dad was. She had an _idea _of where he was, if she needed to find him it wouldn't have been impossible. They knew where he was hunting, they knew what he was hunting, but he never specified where he was staying, and she wasn't sure if that was out of habit, obsession or just straight up paranoia. It's not like she would have told him even if she had known, she wasn't stupid. If the guy wanted to find her Dad, it was probably to kill him, or to get revenge, it was a rare thing for it to be something good.

"Because," The man began brightly, his voice cheerful. "I've been hearing all sorts of concerning rumours that he's currently trying to hunt me down, can you believe that?" She frowned at him, unsure of how to take that comment. "Seems he wants a little revenge after I, uh, burned your Mom."

Haley's head snapped up to look at him at that, her eyes wide. It felt like he had punched her in the face, as though the words had been knocked clean out of her mouth. There was a rush of anger through her, a panic and fear that she had never felt before. The only thing she knew about the thing that had killed her Mom was that it was evil. A level of evil that her Dad never associated with the other things he hunted, as though this guy was a whole new mountain of horror. There was a protective feeling in her at his words, something that she shared with their Dad. At the thought she was standing face to face with the thing he had spent so long looking for, all she wanted to do was kill it. To finally have the revenge that their family had wanted for so many years, but she didn't know what to do.

"You what?" she breathed out, the words hardly forming in her mind, like the shock had stunned her to silence. She looked him up and down slowly, he didn't look all that dangerous, he just looked like a normal guy. "What are you?"

The man smiled slightly and closed his eyes. He opened them again to reveal them as a pale yellow colour. He stared at her for a couple of seconds before he blinked again and they returned to their normal colour. He took another step forwards, leaning down slightly. "I'll ask you again," he pushed, his voice turning hard and threatening. "Where is your Dad, Haley?"

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><p>Haley hadn't been gone from the motel room for more than ten minutes when Dean's cellphone rang from his jacket pocket. He let out a long, tired groan and turned down the volume of the tv before he pushed himself to his feet. He crossed the room and pulled the phone from his jacket, almost sure that it was going to be his sister calling from the diner because she'd forgotten what he'd wanted or something. "Yeah?" he answered, thinking nothing of it.<p>

"Dean." A voice said simply. It was their Dad. Dean immediately picked up on the urgency and seriousness in his rushed tone, and the Impala's engine being pushed to it's full speed in the background. "Where are you?" he demanded before Dean had the chance to ask him what was wrong.

"At the motel." He frowned in confusion, it wasn't like their Dad to sound the way he did then. "Why?"

Dean had _never _heard him sound like that. There was something like panic in his voice, a fear that something was going to happen that was already out of his control. "I need you to get your brother and sister, and then you salt the windows and doors, now." he instructed, his voice sharp and warning him not to argue it. "None of you leave that room until I get back, understood?"

"Wait, what?" Normally Dean would have left it at that, he wouldn't have had anything else to say on the matter, but something sent a harsh wave of panic through him. "Dad, Haley's not here."

Dean heard him sigh, and then mutter something under his breath, from what he could hear, their Dad now sounded genuinely worried. "Where is she?" he urged.

He shook his head slowly, like their Dad expected him to know her exact location every hour of the day. "I don't know, Dad," He paused, not sure what to tell him. "What's going on?"

"There's something...and you...it's..." He heard him begin to say something, an attempt to answer him and explain what was happening, but the line cracked and muffled his voice to a point that Dean couldn't understand what was being said, where all he could hear was static. And then it went dead.

"Dammit." Dean muttered to himself as he dropped the phone back down to the table. He pulled a hand down his face and released a deep, calming sigh. "Sammy!" he yelled over towards his brother's room as he headed to the small kitchen part of the motel room.

Sam emerged from his bedroom to find Dean rummaging through the cupboards desperately, like he'd lost something that his life depended on finding. "What's up?" He frowned, sensing the panic in Dean's usually calm voice.

Dean pulled out a tub of salt and slammed it down on the counter in relief. "Salt the windows and doors, now." he said bluntly. "Don't move until I come back, okay, Sammy?" he instructed as he pulled on his jacket. "You don't let anyone into this room unless it's me, alright?"

"Dean," Sam shook his head slowly. "What?" But Dean had already ran from the room and slammed the door closed loudly behind himself without bothering to give an answer.

Dean ran through the heavy rain and stopped in the middle of the street, looking up and down it helplessly as he thought of what to do. He made the most obvious choice and turned in the direction of the closest diner, where he assumed Haley would have gone. He sprinted through the streets, his mind jumping to nothing but the worst possible scenarios of what could have happened to her. There wasn't a lot of things in the world that scared him, but something that freaked the hell out of him was the thought of something happening to Sam or Haley, because he didn't know what he'd do if anything were to harm them. He came to an abrupt halt as he rounded a corner, feeling sick at the sight in front of him. Haley stood in the middle of the street, a man behind her with an arm around the front of her neck and a knife pressed hard against her skin. A smirk spread over the man's face at the sight of him, a dark look in his eyes that unnerved Dean more than he thought anyone were capable of.

"Let her go." Dean seethed, his tone low and threatening, almost murderous. He took a step closer to them, a hard glare on his face that promised he wouldn't hesitate in killing him. "Now."

"Hm," The small smirk held on the man's smug face, growing wider as he tightened his hold of her. "I can't do that, I'm afraid." he replied, mock apology in his tone.

Dean clenched his fists and took another couple of steps closer, watching him warily. He looked down to Haley who was trying and failing to make herself look as though she wasn't scared. Being honest, he wasn't sure what to do, he didn't know who the guy was, if he were human, but he wouldn't hesitate in making an attempt to rip his head clean off his shoulders to find out. As far as he were concerned, if anyone so much as harmed a hair on her head, it gave him a free pass to beat the life out of them. There was an anger in him that he didn't often experience. But to have someone standing with a knife pressed to his sister's neck, it made him see red.

"Dean." A steady voice sounded from behind him, pulling him from his homicidal thoughts.

Somewhere out of nowhere, their Dad seemed to appear. Dean had never been able to understand how he did that, if something important happened, or something went wrong and one of them were in danger, he just seemed to appear, no matter where he had been or what job he had been working, every time he had been there, as though he had some kind of sixth sense about them. There was a look on his face that didn't fill Dean with confidence. Normally their Dad would have been the one he looked to for a sure answer, the way to fix the situation, but he looked just as worried as Dean felt.

"Get your hands off my daughter." he said bluntly, coming to a stop beside Dean and staring the man straight in the face. His voice consisted of pure anger and hatred, a frown on his face that no one would question. "Right now."

"Hales," Dean's voice cracked at her name. He locked eyes with her, momentarily taking away some of her fear. Just for a few seconds, it was only Haley and her brother, no one else—no monsters, no bad people, nothing evil in the world—because Dean's eyes always promised that he could protect her from anything, no matter what happened, he wouldn't let anything get her. He'd always promised her that, even when he didn't say anything, and she had never doubted him.

It felt something like fear, but not a fear of dying, and not even a fear of what was going happen to her if she didn't die—it was a fear of the look in Dean's eyes. She could see how hard he was trying to think of a way to help her, the strain in his eyes as he searched her face for some kind of sign, something to let him know that she was okay, that they'd make it out of this one, like they always did. But it was different that time. Because deep down, they both knew that it was the last time they would ever look each other in the eye—neither of them realistically thought that she was going to make it out. But Dean never gave up hope like that, he fought and fought until the last remaining glimmer of hope was extinguished, until there was no other options that he could think of. Haley tried to hold his stare, not wanting to look away, because when she was standing there and looking straight at him, she felt okay. Even knowing that he wasn't going to be able to save her this time, she felt okay because he was there. And he never looked away. He never let his intense and focused stare falter, not even when the fear and the unshed tears showed themselves. He didn't look away as their Dad took a small step towards her and the knife was pressed even firmer against her neck.

And then, just like that, in that one brief second that he watched the blade of the knife leave her neck and disappear into her stomach, the look of sheer and unforgiving pain in her eyes, her face, everything, he knew it was all over. And Dean knew that he had been the last thing she had seen before she had died.

The rain poured down over them, but Dean couldn't feel it anymore. He couldn't feel anything. He didn't want to feel anything. She was gone. In a second, in the blink of an eye, they were both gone, leaving him staring ahead in shock at an empty street. He couldn't even think to form words, there were no words—everything in his head seemed to stop right then.

He eventually managed to tear his eyes away from the spot she had been standing and summon the strength to look over at their Dad. His jaw was clenched tightly, a look of complete loss and anger in his expression. There was water trailing down his face, whether it was just rain or mixed up with tears, he couldn't say, but the broken look in his eyes gave him a good idea.

And then something hit him, hard, like a punch to the gut, a thought that sent a sick, dreading feeling to the very pit of his stomach—he was going to have to go back to the motel room and tell Sam what had happened. He was going to have to explain why he hadn't protected her, like he had always promised he would. He was going to have to tell him that his big sister, the girl that Sam had looked up to his whole life, the one who he had trusted with everything, the one who had adored him and would have done anything for him—she was never coming back.

Dean clenched his jaw. He could feel the lump in his throat and the tears stinging in his eyes. He held his breath, feeling like he couldn't remember how to breathe at that point. He didn't know where he was supposed to go from there. What was he supposed to do? Aside from Sam, Haley had been the one thing in his life that had given him any kind of hope. She had been everything to him, she had been anything that he needed her to be, and over the years, that had been a lot. She had been his witness, someone who had seen him at his best and fixed him at his worst, his partner in crime, the one who had stayed up all night with him when he needed someone there, the one who had cried with him and never judged him for it when their Mom's birthdays rolled around, someone who knew when he was smiling even when it was dark, his teacher, his student, his defence attorney, even his shrink. She had been his best friend. And he would have killed anyone in a second to save her life. There had been something about her, she had always seemed to know what had been good for him. No matter what the situation, or how bad anyone else was feeling, whatever he had been going through or no matter how crappy life seemed to be, everything was okay when she was around. She could never fail to return a smile to his face. She had always had a way of making things seem okay, even when they weren't.

And he needed her now, more than ever before.

He stood silently for a few seconds and finally blinked the tears from his eyes, feeling them almost immediately being washed away as they mixed in with the thick raindrops already running down his cheeks.

That was the last time that Dean Winchester ever thought he would see his sister. But he was wrong...


	2. When Hell Comes Home

_I want to say a massive thank you for all of the support I got for the last chapter, the lovely reviews and favourites and follows, very much appreciated. _

_This chapter is set twelve years on from chapter one, so here Dean is 30, Haley is 28 and Sam is 26 — meaning that it is set mid season five. _

_As you may have seen in my bio, updates for this story will be EVERY FRIDAY! _

_Hope you enjoy and thank you for reading, don't forget to let me know what you think! :)_

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><p><span><strong>Saving Grace<strong>

**Chapter Two: When Hell Comes Home**

Death was never an easy thing to come to terms with, for anyone.

It was something that was always just there, no matter who you were. It was a darkness, a looming presence that was always going to lurk in the shadows, interminably waiting. Some deaths were sudden, some were unexpected and some planned, some spontaneous and some accidental. And some of them were unexplainable, they were confusing and they left families without answers.

Dean remembered every single detail of the night his little sister had died. He remembered the shock and the horror, the unimaginable pain and the nightmares that came along with it, mixed up with the sinking and empty feeling that there was always going to be something missing, like a hole in the very core of his existence—the experience of loss Dean Winchester had been through at the young age of just eighteen—it was something that had never left him. Losing someone that he had been so close to wasn't something that he had been able to just brush off, the way that he tried to do with most other things that happened to him. It had been different with her. It wasn't something that he could just get over. It was something that he knew he would have to deal with until the very end of his life. The death of someone with whom he had shared such a unique bond left a heartache that no one else could even begin to understand, let alone heal. It was though a part of him had gone with her the night that she had died, the night that she had been lost to her small family forever.

Dean wasn't stupid, it wasn't like he had been living in a dream world. He had eventually accepted the fact that she was never going to come back. He had slowly become accustomed to the fact that he would never hear her bright voice again, that he would never hear her laugh again, or that he would never see those familiar green eyes—the ones so similar to his own—sparkle again. He had eventually grown out of the habit of looking to his side where she would normally have been standing. And, in time, it had gotten an easier concept to deal with.

A part of him had felt nothing but alone after that night. Their dad somehow, if it were even possible, became more distant. His hunting trips seemed to last longer and longer each time he went away, and Dean wasn't sure on whether or not that was a good thing. When he eventually did stumble back to their motel room he and Sam would get at each other's throats more than ever before, sometimes Dean thought they were just fighting each other as a way to let out their frustration. But without Haley there, it was down to him to calm them down. It was times like that he missed her the most, the times when he had known that she would have been standing beside him and ready to have their backs should they need her. It was when he was awake in the early hours of the morning and starting blankly at the tv, unable to sleep, when he needed her there for someone to talk to. It was times like when Sam ran away to Stanford, or when dad sent him on his own hunting trips, when he needed the bright smile to lighten up his day.

But he never got it. It had always been as though he'd assumed no matter who came and went, whether Sam went to college or their dad left to hunt, he always thought that she would be the one left standing with him, he had never thought that there would come a day that she wouldn't be there. Sometimes he thought that maybe he had taken her for granted, that she had been the one who had stood by him through anything, and it was only when she was gone that he realised, without her his life was a darker place to live.

It had always remained a harsh and bitter feeling that Dean would never be able to move past, no matter how much time passed by, and no matter how hard he tried to forget tha pain, it was always there, a feeling that constantly haunted him. Yet, he would carry on, like he always did, the way he had been trained to do. He would smile to hide the loss and laugh to hide the tears, but nothing ever stopped it from hurting.

Sam would pretend he was okay, sometimes Dean thought more for his sake than Sam's. He eventually stopped dropping her name into conversations, just on the off chance that Dean would finally tell him what he had seen that night, maybe in some hope that he would be able to understand what had happened to his sister, but he never did. He wouldn't bring her up with Dean, and certainly not with their dad, the only person who had ever remained calm enough for long enough to talk about her had been Bobby. And they were conversations that no one else had ever known about. He would never tell another person how much he truly missed her every single day, how many times he had silently wished that she could still be there to kick his and Dean's asses into shape when they had fallen off the rails. He carried the loss around with him every day, never letting on how much it still pained him.

But mostly, they would try to think of the good times. When they thought of her they tried to think about the times when they had laughed together, when they had been a real and somewhat happy family, even if only for a short while. Her memory was always going to be there, no matter what happened. And both of them would always hold onto those memories of her, they would cherish the good ones and use them to make the pain of losing her a little more bearable, up until they day that they didn't have to anymore...

...up until the day that she crashed right back into their lives.

* * *

><p><em>Twelve Years Later<em>_ — Madison, Wisconsin — Sunday morning, 02:12am._

Roxanne Coleman, a woman aged just twenty-eight, took a long inhale of the cigarette held between her fingers and closed her eyes for a moment before she blew out the thin white smoke from between her lips and watched as it dissipated in front of her, clearing the view of her own reflection in the mirror ahead. She returned the cigarette to the ashtray on top of the dresser she was sitting at as she picked up a tube of mascara with her free hand, using it to touch up on the black make up which already coated both her eyes. As she looked over herself in the mirror she gave a soft sigh. Her brown hair, which reached halfway down her back, was curled and set in the right places, her eyes were dark with eyeliner and mascara, and her lips a deep red colour. By now she was used to looking like a whore, she was used to feeling like a whore, and she was more than used to being treated like a whore—it was just her life, her job, she had learned not to care anymore.

Her green eyes moved downwards as she adjusted the black corset around her middle, a blank and emotionless look on her face as she reached down and pulled on her black heels. She took the opportunity to shot back yet another glass of whiskey, making that a third of the bottle already, and she'd only been there for fifteen minutes. It wasn't like she was shy to drinking, it came naturally to her, a talent that she had worked on over the years—to the point that she could drink back bottles of the stuff and barely feel a thing. Sometimes, she wasn't sure why she even bothered.

"Rox," A bright voice called from somewhere behind her, a voice that she was all too used to hearing to wonder who it belonged to. "You're on in a minute."

Roxy stood from the chair and gave herself one last look over in the mirror, another glass of whiskey was shot down her neck before she turned and headed out.

The coloured lights shone around her as she walked out, the noise level changed dramatically between the two rooms, the music now pulsed through the floor beneath her. All around her she could hear the sound of people talking over the music, cheering, shouting—all blurred into one loud mess that could barely be heard over the sound that blared through the speakers around her. It caused the floor to vibrate beneath her heels, bright white lights flashed over her face every few seconds, smoke filtered around her and made it almost impossible to make out the many faces that were now crowded around her—not that she cared too much about who they were. It was always the same, faceless clients, she never played too much attention to them anymore. It made it easier, as if somehow less degrading when she couldn't see the lustfilled eyes on her.

People told her all the time, almost daily, how shady and vulgar what she did was, how reprehensible and demeaning her job really was, how any parents would be so ashamed it they were to ever discover the ostentatious career their daughter had once taken part in each night to earn a living. She had heard it all in her time, she should have gone to college when she had been younger, she should have gotten herself a proper career, something reliable, but she didn't care. It wasn't even like it was her real job, not anymore. At one point it had been her complete and only source of income, back when she had been a teenager, and then in her early twenties, but after that she had allowed herself to grow up a little. A part of her hadn't given up on that job though, she still did it at the weekends, a couple of nights for a few hundred dollars, she was okay with that—it was good money, after all. But it wasn't who she was anymore. She had a job during the week, she had an apartment and a car, she took care of herself. Despite what image she might have, she was quite responsible when it really came down to it.

But she had learned a long time ago, the judgement that came with her job, even if it wasn't full-time anymore, the names and the stereotypes—it was just one long line of mundane repetition to her. Honestly, she didn't care what people thought, whether they had a positive notion or otherwise. As far as she were concerned it helped to pay the bills and that was all there was to it. She didn't care about them, because she didn't care all that much about herself.

Roxy didn't consider herself to be anything special, not like a lot of the girls she knew in her line of work. Away from the fictitious glamour and undesirable attention, she had a realistic view of herself. She wasn't some big breasted, fake-haired slut who loved herself and expected the same from everyone else—not like so many of the girls who worked there—when she got home at night, away from the job, she was just a normal girl. Just a girl who watched movies and read books, a girl who had days where she just couldn't be bothered, days where she wondered what the point was—a girl who wasn't nearly as confident or as put together as people seemed to think. Just the same as everyone else, she had days where she was downcast, where she felt ignored and rejected, and then there were days where she was happy, when she could hope and believe in a future that wasn't destined to the same sleazy bar and drunken men every single weekend.

Somewhere deep down, she believed things would change for her.

And one night, everything did.

* * *

><p>Dean grinned as he pulled open the door to the club and headed inside, allowing his eyes to scan the room freely. The music was loud, almost deafening, playing some obnoxious modern music that he didn't recall he had ever heard before, or ever wanted to hear again. There were people crowded around the bar ordering drinks, there were people sitting at tables just talking and laughing between themselves, and then there were the groups gathered around the poles where there were girls dancing. He stepped further inside, his younger brother right behind him, and chuckled.<p>

"My kinda club, Sammy." he smirked up at his sibling before his eyes found their way to the closet stripper, a curvy brunette girl sliding up and down a pole.

Sam rolled his eyes in response, he didn't recall seeing Dean smile in such a way in at least a week. "Look at yourself," he commented. "You're like a kid in a candy store."

Dean gave a half-hearted shrug, as if to ask him what was the problem. "Hey," he said lightly. "When in Rome, right?"

"Come on," Sam called, just loud enough to be heard over the music. "We're working."

"Such a buzz kill, Sammy." he sighed and returned his gaze to the many people around them. His eyes found their way to a red-haired waitress placing a round of beers down on a table. "Alright, well, I see a pretty little waitress over there who's just _dying_ to be interrogated by an officer of the law." he grinned, waggling his eyebrows at him before he headed off towards her.

He weaved his way through the crowd of men, keeping an eye out for anything suspicious, until he came up behind her. "'Scuse me, sweetheart?" The waitress turned around and her large brown eyes immediately found his. A small smile crossed her tinted lips at the sight of him, an interested look on her face. "I'm, uh, I'm looking for a girl, I think she might work here. Name's Roxanne Coleman."

The woman's smile immediately faltered, she looked like she was turning defensive. For a second, Dean thought that he might have found her. She pushed a lock of red hair behind her ear and cleared her throat. "What do you want with Roxy?" she asked, looking him up and down slowly, wary.

Dean frowned, at least safe in the knowledge that they had the right place. "Nothing, I just, I need to talk to her about something, it's important." he replied simply, his voice calm. "Does she work here?"

"Only at weekends." she glanced down at the watch on her left wrist. "In fact, you're gonna be lucky if she's still here." She looked around the room slowly, carefully, until her eyes came to a halt. "She's up there," she pointed over towards one of the poles in the center of the room. "The one in black."

When he didn't reply she looked back to him, frowning. His face was pale white, drained entirely of colour as he stared up at her. She was pretty sure that he was no longer breathing, he looked as though he was about to be sick. His mouth opened and closed a couple of times before he found his words again.

"I'm guessing, place like this, Roxy isn't her real name?" he pressed, almost desperately, never taking his eyes from her.

The woman shrugged, confused. "As far as I know she's called Roxy. I mean, I've known her for twelve years and that's the only name she's ever gone by."

"Twelve years, huh?" he breathed out deeply, way too coincidence to be just a coincidence. "You've never heard her mention anyone called Haley, have you?"

The woman shook her head, fast becoming concerned by his strange behaviour. "Look, buddy, I think you should sit down, maybe get some water?" she suggested. "You look like you're about to hurl."

"No," he shook his head immediately. "I'm good, thanks. I need you to take me to her, like, right now."

She seemed hesitant for a moment, shifting her weight, uncomfortable, but nodded. "Alright," she sighed. "Follow me."

He nodded over towards Sam, who was standing by the bar watching them curiously, indicating for him to come along.

Sam followed his older brother through the crowded club, dodging the many different people there, behind the woman who was leading them towards what appeared to be the back room. He didn't know what was going on, he didn't really want to ask. One minute Dean had been—in his own words—investigating, with one of the women who worked there—which, in reality, Sam knew it to be nothing more than shameless flirting—and the next he had been white as a sheet. Without muttering more to him than a hurried 'come on', Dean hadn't spoken. The woman who he had been talking to previously smiled between them, like she didn't see the same problem he did, and led the way through the club.

They followed her into a much quieter room, what looked to be where the dancers got ready, and sighed. "Alright, you can wait here for her." she said simply. "She should be done in a few."

Sam knew something was wrong when Dean didn't even look at the half-naked woman standing in front of him. He didn't so much as glance away from the floor. He really looked like he was about to vomit, and it only worried Sam. "Uh, thanks—"

"Rachel." she cut in.

"Right," Sam acknowledged. "Well, thank you, Rachel." he managed, smiling at the woman who gave them one last curious glance before turning away and heading back out to the bar.

As the door closed behind her, leaving the two of them alone, Sam turned to his brother, frowning. "What's going on?" he pressed, urgent. He tried to remain calm, but anything that had Dean looking like that wasn't going to be good. "Dude, you look like you've seen a ghost."

Dean didn't seem able to find his voice for a moment, slowly bringing his eyes up from the floor to meet his brother's. "She—that Roxy chick—she looked like—" he stopped himself, shaking his head. It wasn't possible, there was no going there. He couldn't.

"Looked like who?" Sam coaxed, anxious.

"No one," Dean frowned, snapping himself out of it. "No one, it's just...long drive." he muttered, all he could think to put it down to. He was tired and stressed and imagining things, his head was fried. He just needed some sleep.

It was only when the door at the other side of the room opened that Sam realised just what Dean had been getting at, and Dean realised that maybe he wasn't insane; because the look on Sam's face said it all. He wasn't the only one seeing the obvious resemblance, she was standing right in front of them. Dean looked her up and down slowly, and he didn't know if he wanted to laugh, cry, throw up or throw holy water at her. He didn't know what to think about it, he didn't even have time to think about it, neither of them did. They both stood completely motionless and stared at her, no clue how to react to the more than strange situation.

Roxy simply blinked at the unexpected sight of them, yet she didn't appear surprised in the same way that they did, she looked completely indifferent. She had headed back to the dressing room with her mind only on one thing, and that was to get back home and get some sleep. It was the only thing that took up any interest to her at that point, she was past exhausted. But she came to an abrupt halt in the doorway at the sight of the two men standing before her. She looked over them slowly—they both wore jeans, something which she assumed meant was too casual for them to be cops—they didn't look like the usual kind of sleazy clients she was used to dealing with there. They both appeared to be sober, undrugged, and, unlike most of the men in that club, focused.

One was taller than the other with longer hair, he had a much calmer face and a notion of sadness in his hazel eyes. The other, with a look as though he thought he was Rambo on a mission to kill someone, had a hard face that gave an impression he was blank and emotionless, but his eyes seemed to tell a different story—they were filled with the same grief and loss and pain as the other man's, something she tended to see a lot in her line of work. After a few years of routine, she had learned to read people in a way that told her who was likely to flip, and who was likely to walk away. With him, she wasn't sure.

The two of them stood and watched her intently, as though they were anxious of what her next move would be. Both sets of eyes were wide, as though someone had slapped them both hard around the face and stunned them into silence. She took a couple of seconds to look around, quickly ruling out that possibility when she saw that the three of them were alone. Roxy cleared her throat and took a couple of steps further into the room, a nonchalant look on her face as she calmly picked up the bottle of whiskey she had left on the side and poured herself a drink, her back to them.

"You know," she began, her voice calm and confident as she turned back to face them and leaned against the dresser behind her. "If you're looking for a free lap dance, you're not gonna find one in here."

Dean was almost sick at the sound of her voice, it was one he hadn't heard in twelve years, yet it had haunted him at the same time. He could still her the very last time she had said his name, when her voice had cracked with fear, he could still hear her laugh, her cries—it plagued him.

Yet, neither found an answer. Their eyes remained fixed on her, she wasn't even sure if they had heard her, but she noticed that there was something different about them—they weren't staring at her ass, or her legs, or her chest—they were both looking right at her, in a way that seemed almost like they were reading her, or seeing straight through her. The shorter one of the two appeared to snap out of his heavy thoughts first as he nudged his friend in the arm, a que on which they both reached into their jackets.

"Roxanne Coleman," he said, his voice deep and serious as he pulled out a badge from his pocket, an action mirrored by the other man, and held it up to her. "Agents Butler and Iommi, FBI." Roxy just raised an eyebrow at him and nodded slowly, failing to hold back a smile on her face. "We're going to need to ask you a few questions."

"Actually, it's Roxy." she replied simply, an attitude which gave the impression she remained completely unphased by them. She watched the two of them curiously for a couple of seconds as she raised the glass of whiskey to her lips, like she was expecting them to say something else. "So," she placed the glass down and took a step towards them, arms folded over her chest, and looked between their badges with a smirk. "Agents Butler and Iommi, tell me, was Ozzy out on duty, or could the Feds only afford to send out two members of Black Sabbath?" She smirked harder at the looks of complete bewilderment on their faces, picking up on the look they shared at her words, something which gave her the impression that the lame and completely obvious aliases had been the product of the shorter man's brain. A frown fixed on the taller man's face as he shot a glare to his left, only to have a look returned with a puzzled face. "I mean, Butler and Iommi, come on, who are you trying to kid?" She paused for a second, looking from one to the other and back again as she narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Did Taylor put you up to this? Because you can tell her from me that she isn't funny."

They simultaneously returned the badges to their jackets and looked between each other, as if they were searching the other for their next move. The taller one shifted uncomfortably before he took a short breath and looked back to her. "Uh, listen...Roxy," He seemed to pause at her name, like he had been unsure or unwilling to say it. "We're not here to hurt you, okay? My name's Sam, this is Dean." Her eyes flickered to him as he gave a small nod. "We need you to come with us." His voice seemed sincere, there was a note of urgency, maybe even desperation, in it. Yet, it was mixed with a softness and sympathy that she didn't fully understand.

Roxy looked between the two men in confusion, her eyebrows knitted together in a thoughtful frown while she tried to work out the reason for them wanting her. For all she knew, they could have been serial killers just picking out their latest victim in a long line of murders, or they could have been genuinely nice guys who needed her for some serious reason. Either way, she wasn't stupid, she didn't trust many people, and it wasn't like she was going to start with the two strange men that had shown up in the back of a strip club flashing around fake FBI badges.

"Well," She gave a small sigh, acting as though she was pondering her answer. "You know, I'd love to," Her voice was almost sarcastic, a cocky tone to it, the one she used when she was made to feel uncomfortable or scared. "But, uh, I've got stuff I've gotta do, so..." she trailed off and offered a small shrug. "Can't help you."

The shorter man, Dean, sighed—a sigh that sounded something like defeat, but then, in a split second, he did something that no one in the room seemed to expect—he reached into the back of his jeans and pulled out a silver gun, a serious and deadly look formed on his face as he uncocked it and aimed it towards her chest. "Sorry, sweetheart," he muttered, his voice hard. "It wasn't up for negotiation." She noticed that even the guy beside him looked to be shocked by his actions, his eyes were wide as he looked between the two of them slowly, nervous.

It wasn't as though it was the first time she had ever had a gun pointed at her, it didn't really bother her if she were being honest. She wasn't scared of being shot, she wasn't even scared of dying. She figured if it was going to happen, it would happen. But she could usually see when people were being serious and when they were bluffing. She knew that Sam wouldn't have shot her, he didn't look as though he had it in him. But with Dean, she wasn't sure. His face said one things and the sadness in his eyes another. She wasn't sure what to think. But then, she couldn't think whether it was smarter to take the chance to run and risk being shot at, or to just go along with them. Roxy was the kind of person who did things spontaneously, people had called her crazy in the past for some of the last minute things she had agreed to—but the curiousity would drive her insane if she didn't do it.

She cleared her throat and nodded slowly, her eyes moving from the gun to Dean's glare. In reality, she didn't see another option that didn't involve being shot. "Okay then," she began brightly, her voice remaining as upbeat as ever, not a note of fear or anxiousness escaping her. "Well, assuming that you are insane enough to shoot me," she paused and looked him over slowly, she really wasn't too sure of that one. "You mind if I go and put on some clothes before you kidnap me?"

The two of them looked between each other, the taller one shooting his friend a look before he had the chance to voice his obvious protests. She got the impression that he was the calmer and more scrupulous one. Dean sighed in defeat and nodded. "Be quick about it." he muttered flatly. "And don't try anything funny," he added, giving the gun in his hand a small shake of emphasis. "I mean it."

Roxy gave a small laugh and rolled her eyes. "Wouldn't dream of it." she threw back over her shoulder as she turned and grabbed her bag from the floor, heading for the bathroom.

Maybe it was the fact that she were more outgoing than a lot of people, or that she tended to do things in a more extemporary way rather than plan it all out, but they had sparked a curiosity that she couldn't pass on. She knew that she was more than capable of taking care of herself, and she'd take a pretty good shot at fighting the two of them off if needed, but she didn't see them to be violent or intent on harming her. It wasn't like she trusted them, or even that she thought what she was doing was smart, she didn't. But there was something about them that she couldn't put her finger on, it felt like somewhere deep down she knew she needed to go with them and see what it was they wanted with her, she just didn't know why.

Sam and Dean watched as the door closed behind her, simultaneously releasing a long, deep breath. "Sammy, what the hell?" Dean broke the silence first, his voice shaky and quiet.

Sam just shook his head at him slowly, he honestly felt nothing but sick. There was no logical explanation for the girl that had been standing right in front of them. There was no answer there to give them some kind of idea what had happened. They were just lost, and apparently so was she. He didn't know what to say, there was nothing he could say. There were no words that were going to make the situation any easier for them to handle, nothing to make the whole thing any less confusing.

Dean pulled a hand down his face and turned his back to the bathroom door when Sam didn't say anything. "That was Haley." His voice cracked a little at her name, it had been a long time since he had said it aloud.

In fact, neither of them could remember the last time he had mentioned her. She had always been something that he had refused to have a conversation about, similar to the way he had been with their mom. But with Haley, it was like he couldn't handle talking about her, because it brought up memories that he could no longer face to think about. She was someone whose death he had never gotten over. And he had spent twelve years wondering why it had happened to her, but now he didn't know what to think. There weren't words, there wasn't anything there to make the situation more understandable, if anything, it had all become even more confusing.

Dean was scared. He would never, ever, admit it, but he was honest to god afraid. He was scared of what had happened to her, why she didn't seem to know who they were, why she didn't seem to be the same girl anymore. Hell, he couldn't even be sure that it _was_ Haley. And he didn't know if he could handle it.

"Dean," Sam's voice broke through his thoughts. His own feelings were momentarily forgotten at the utter horror that had taken over his brother's face. "You look like you're gonna puke, man." Honestly, he was amazed that Dean had held it together and kept it calm for so long, that either of them had. "Go get some air," he pushed. "Keep an eye out for her, just in case."

Dean looked up at him, he knew what he was doing. Sam expected him to snap, to do something stupid or unpredictable, but he truthfully didn't think he could keep his head together long enough to do anything at all. He wasn't sure what to do with himself, it was as though everything had just stopped, and he couldn't seem to start it again. Instead of saying anything, Dean gave a short nod and made a move towards the door, never glancing back before he pulled it closed behind himself.

* * *

><p>Roxy turned, halfway through getting changed, as the bathroom door opened and closed behind her. Her friend from earlier, Rachel, looked her over slowly, a frown on her face. "I, uh, I'm guessing those guys found you then?" she asked, leaning against one of the sinks and folding her arms over her chest. Roxy just smiled, knowing what she was about to say when she told her what she were doing. It seemed to click something in Rachel's mind, a look of disbelief formed on her face. "You are not seriously going with them?" she pressed, shaking her head slowly.<p>

"C'mon," Roxy shrugged slightly and let out a small laugh as she pulled on her boots. "I think I can handle those two," she smirked. "Besides, what have I got to lose, huh?"

Rachel scoffed. "You remember the last time you did something like this? Where you just up and bailed halfway across the country to see some stupid rock concert with those guys you didn't know, you ended up in prison." she scolded.

Roxy just laughed at the thought, not looking phased. "Hey, I lived didn't I?" she countered, as though that made it all okay. "It was a pretty good weekend. What's the worst that could happen?"

"Come on, Rox, don't be stupid." she tried again, her voice nothing but seriousness. "I don't even think they know who you are, I mean, one of them was practically calling you Haley."

Roxy stopped at that and frowned. "What?" she pressed curiously.

"Yeah, the shorter one," Rachel went on. There was a concern in her voice, something that sounded like fear for her. "He came over to me asking for Roxanne Coleman, I mean, who do you know that actually calls you Roxanne?" Roxy just looked at her, raising her eyebrows simply, not looking at all bothered about it. "Anyway, I pointed over at you and he went freaking white, I mean, he looked like he'd been stabbed or something, I thought he was gonna be sick for a minute. So, I told him to sit down but then he started asking over someone called Haley. I said I didn't know what he was talking about and he just went back to his friend. Next thing I know you're planning to run away with them."

Roxy sighed lightly and gave another shrug. She didn't know what she was supposed to say to that. Sure it was weird, but a lot of people looked like other people, probably just a coincidence. Pretty much everyone she knew made out that she was someone who made stupid decisions, someone who didn't think anything through before she did it. And maybe they were right, she did things sometimes without stopping for even a fraction of a second to think about it, she didn't plan it out, she just did it. And some of the best memories she had were down to her making choices like that. She didn't have that fear of the unknown that most people did, she wasn't afraid of anything until it happened. She wouldn't fear being attacked by a murderer at night until it was actually happening to her, like she didn't anticipate the dangers around her, or she chose not to acknowledge them and refused to let them hold her back.

"Roxy," she almost pleaded, softening her voice. "I don't think they're safe, okay, please, just don't go with them."

"Look, I can't really explain it," She sighed lightly and shook her head slowly. "I don't have a choice. I need to do this."

Rachel scoffed. "What does that mean, you don't have a choice?" she snapped. "What, are they pulling guns on you and forcing you to go with them or something?" There was a sarcasm in her tone that Roxy knew meant she had been kidding, but she didn't nothing to persuade her mind otherwise. "Oh, Jesus—" She shook her head when she saw the look on Roxy's face, giving everything away. "Tell me they're—call the friggin' cops, Roxy!"

Roxy gave a dry laugh. "Yeah, because the cops in this town are really going to take my side, aren't they?" she retorted. "Relax, okay, I know what I'm doing. They're not gonna shoot me." Rachel just raised an eyebrow at her, looking anything but convinced. "Trust me, if they were here to kill me, I'd be dead. And besides, you know what I'm like, if I don't go with them I'll just sit around wondering what I've missed out on for the rest of my life."

"Rox, given your talent at reading people, you know I normally wouldn't doubt you, but there's something about this whole thing that I just don't like." she tried again, but they both knew none of it was going into her head. "Please."

Roxy rolled her eyes and picked up her bag. "I'll be fine, okay? I'll give you a call later, I promise." Rachel still didn't look satisfied. "Rach, I'll be fine." she told her, a little more forcefully. "Don't worry."

With that, without knowing where she was going, she went. She smiled and headed past her to the door, unknowingly turning her back on her life forever.


	3. No Turning Back

_Massive thank you to those of you who have reviewed, favourited, followed since the last chapter! Your support means the world! _

_Hope you enjoy this chapter, don't forget to leave a review and tell me what you think! :-) Have a great weekend, guys!_

* * *

><p><span><strong>Saving Grace<strong>

**Chapter Three: No Turning Back**

_Madison, Wisconsin - 02:48 am_

Sam wasn't entirely sure what they were doing. He didn't know what their plan was, and he was almost convinced that Dean didn't, either—hell, he wasn't sure if they even had a plan at all. They were both acting on impulse, taking it as it went, but in the back of his mind he didn't really think that either of them wanted to think it through. They were both as clueless and stunned as the other, with no idea what was happening. All plans and reason had gone out of the window the second they had laid eyes on her. He knew who she was, her eyes, her smile, right down to the thin white scar at her hairline, barely even visible to someone who didn't know that it was there—he knew it was Haley. It was just her who didn't seem aware.

He glanced up as she wandered casually out of the bathroom and looked her over slowly. She wore some tight black jeans with a pair of scuffed black boots pulled over them, and a dark grey vest that he just knew would have Dean smiling to himself. She pulled on a black leather jacket over the top and sighed.

Roxy glanced around the small room curiously. "Where's your friend?" she asked him, seeing that he was now standing alone.

Sam shifted uncomfortably and nodded towards the door. "He's, uh, he's standing outside the bathroom window, just incase your plan was to bail through there." he replied, almost sheepishly.

Roxy laughed, as though she had been expecting him to do the same, but stopped when he didn't. "You're joking, right?" she asked, an eyebrow raised as if to ask why she was the only one who found his joke funny. He kept his eyes fixed on her and shot her an awkward smile. "You're not joking..." she concluded. "Right, of course you're not."

Sam sighed, sadly. The whole thing would have been so much easier if they could just sit her down and explain to her the truth, but he knew there was no way of doing that. There was no way to tell someone, who obviously didn't know who she was, that she had two brothers who were slap bang in the middle of an apocalypse. There was no way to say that they had thought her to be dead for the past twelve years, or that she had grown up in a family that was trained to kill monsters.

"Look," he began slowly, his voice soft. "I get how weird this must be for you, but we really don't want to hurt you, okay?" Roxy simply quirked an eyebrow at him. "I can't really explain why, but we're doing this to keep you safe, you don't need to be scared."

She scoffed, incredulous. "You underestimate me, Sam." she replied simply. "Believe me, I'm not scared." With that, she readjusted her bag on her shoulder and turned towards the door. "We going or what?"

Sam watched after her—whether she was still the same girl or not—he couldn't help but smile at the familiar attitude. He could imagine Haley coming with the exact same one liners and sarcastic smiles. There was something in him that wanted to believe somewhere deep down she knew who they were, that she would snap out of whatever trance she were in and remember them, but he knew Haley hadn't been that good an actress, at least not with them. Under the stoic performance and hidden emotion there was a clear curiosity, something that told him she really had no idea what was going on, yet there remained no sign of fear. He followed her out of the club and onto the parking lot where Dean was leaning against the hood of the Impala, watching them expectantly as they approached.

Dean looked over her slowly, he felt a little more comfortable now that she had some clothes on. His eyebrows shot up as his eyes fell to her shirt. He would've laughed, all those years that she'd spent telling him she hated his bands, he'd always known that she had loved them—enough to know the names of the members of Black Sabbath and to be walking around in a Led Zeppelin shirt. He smiled a little, she looked much more like her old self dressed like that. He thought back to when she had streaked her hair pink and blue, when she had gotten her nose pierced—all an act of teenage rebellion that he had missed about her. He'd found it hilarious at the time, seen it as something that only added to the quirky and distinctive character he had loved about her. Despite the hunting life she had been forced into, she had always managed to be such a free-spirited person.

But it was starting to sink in, she wasn't sixteen anymore, she wasn't even Haley anymore—not as far as she were concerned. She was a stripper, not a hunter. She didn't remember anything that she had done, and if he were being honest, that upset him. She had done so much good for other people, she'd been such a genuinely good-hearted person, it felt a shame that she couldn't remember the things she had done in her past. He genuinely missed her, more than he had done in a long time.

"Nice car." she commented as she came to a stop beside it, looking it over slowly.

Dean gave a small smile before he moved to get into the Impala, his actions followed by Sam and Roxy. None of them spoke to each other as he started the engine and pulled out of the club's parking lot, a tense silence filling the car—mostly due to Sam and Dean, Roxy seemed completely impassive to everything that was happening around her. She had been the last thing they had expected to find, the sister who they hadn't seen in twelve years, who they had thought to be dead. It didn't add up. As he drove, Dean remembered the things that the two of them used to do together, the days when they would skip school with each other and act like they were just regular, stupid teenagers, when they would spend the day just being kids for once. He remembered the day that he had '_borrowed_' a car from the motel's parking lot and first taught her to drive, the times that they had fought together and the times they had laughed to the point of tears. They were all good memories that had just made it harder to accept that she was really gone. With everything that he and Sam had been through over the past few years, there had never been a doubt in his mind that she would have been the one to make it all seem better. But she hadn't been there, and the thought that she had been alive the whole time, just going by another name, it killed him more than he ever would have thought.

"Where do you live?" Sam's question pulled him from his thoughts. Dean glanced over at him as he turned in his seat to face Roxy, who seemed preoccupied with her phone.

He then looked back at Roxy through the mirror in time to see her raise her eyebrows questioningly. "What?"

Sam shrugged, as if it couldn't have been less of a deal. "Well, it, uh, it might be a few days before we can take you home," he reasoned. He and Dean shared an awkward look, they both knew that it was the last time she was ever going to have a normal life, they knew there was no going back from this. "Just thought you might wanna get some clothes or something." he suggested.

"Oh." Roxy narrowed her eyes briefly, as though she noticed something to be off about his tone, but brushed it off and sat up a little straighter. "Uh, take the second left at the bottom, first right, then keep going." she said simply, before she went back to whatever it was she had been doing with her phone.

Sam wasn't sure what it was about her, he couldn't quite figure it out, but he thought that there was something different about her. More than just how she looked, more than just her personality and lifestyle, it was like something was just off about her. He'd never met anyone, stripper or otherwise, that he thought would be comfortable just jumping into a car with two complete strangers, telling them where she lived, and not looking remotely concerned over the fact it could be considered as being held against her will. But then, he also got the impression that if she had really opposed to going with them, they'd have heard about it. For a second, he'd thought she were going to fight the gun out of Dean's hands, she didn't look the type to walk away from a fight with anyone, outnumbered or not.

He cleared his throat as Dean slowed down the Impala and came to a gradual stop outside of a block of apartments. "I'll go with her." he said to Dean, both of them looking back at Roxy, who was already half way out of the car. "You stay in the car."

"Wha—" Dean went to protest but Sam had already climbed out of the car and slammed the door closed behind himself.

But then, something clicked in the back of Dean's head—something that was enough to break the completely calm stance he had held up since he had first laid his eyes on his sister. His brother was about to be alone in an apartment with her, and he intended to go up there without a weapon—no gun, no knife, no form of protection should something happen—with the girl who was supposed to be dead. He realised something else; they didn't even know that she was human. They hadn't checked. And it suddenly all crashed down on him like a ton of bricks.

Amidst the confusion and panic and shock, they hadn't even clicked to think that they might need to check her out. All they had seen there was Haley, their sister. They hadn't given a second thought to anything else, and Dean knew somewhere in the back of his mind it just had to be too good to be true.

He all but jumped out of the car before they could reach the double glass doors at the front of the building and slammed his own door behind himself. "Alright, hold up, hold up," he yelled after them. "Just, stop."

Sam and Roxy both turned to him, each looking as lost as the other. Roxy looked at him as though to ask what the hell his problem was, one perfectly waxed eyebrow raised at him. While Sam appeared nothing but confused, he had barely even registered Dean's words before he came storming towards them, his hard green eyes only fixed on her. All he knew was he didn't like the look on his face at all.

Dean completely ignored the look on her face, he knew it was either act straight away or he would have to explain himself to her first, something he really didn't want to do. He reached for the silver knife hidden away in the back of his belt and pulled it out. Her eyes widened at the sight, the same way that Sam's did, and her fists immediately clenched at her sides. She was clearly more than prepared to fight him.

"Whoa!" Sam darted forward and tried to step between them, anticipating a fight to break out, but Dean's stance seemed to soften a little as he came face to face with her. He appeared to suddenly realise what he was doing, and who he was doing it to—he wasn't going to cause her anymore pain than was necessary. He never would.

"Relax," he muttered, prehaps more to Sam than to anyone else. He held up his hands a little, the knife between his fingertips, as if to convince her that he wasn't a threat—something she looked to be doubting. "I'm not gonna hurt you, alright, just—" he reached out a hand in front of him, palm facing upwards as if to ask for her hand, but she remained where she stood, never moving a muscle.

"Dean," Sam hissed, eyes darting between the two of them quickly, anxious. "What the hell are you doing?" He didn't know which one was going to move first, but he had a feeling that he needed to be prepared for anything.

Momentarily distracted, Roxy's eyes fell to Sam as he spoke, as if she thought that he was about to snap in the same way that his brother had. Dean took her brief slip of guard as an opportunity and grabbed a firm hold of her hand with his. He roughly shoved up the sleeve of her jacket and dragged the silver blade across her skin, hard enough to draw blood, all in the space of about two seconds.

"Motherfu—" Roxy pulled back her arm almost as quickly as Dean had grabbed it, releasing a sharp breath at the sting. Before Dean could even open his mouth to say anything to her she balled up her hands and brought back her fist, before she sent it colliding against his jaw.

Even Sam took a step back at the sound, admittedly a little thrown by the force of her punch—enough to knock Dean back a few steps with a hand held to his face. He hadn't even seen it coming.

Dean groaned and straightened himself up again, blinking hard. Had circumstances been different he probably would have complimented her at the impact of her fist, and in the back of his head he knew he could partially take credit for her knowing how to thow a hit like that.

Roxy took a step closer to him and hardened her face. "Do that again and I swear to god I will end you." she warned, her voice low in a way that he had never heard her speak before, to anyone.

"Chill out." he muttered in response, not sounding at all phased by her threats. He reached into his jacket once again, and he could see her ready to fight him again as she anticipated what it was, and brought out a flask. He then pulled out a rag from his pocket and handed the knife to his brother. "Just let me clean it."

Sam shot him a look, incredulous. He knew that sometimes Dean didn't think through his plans, that sometimes he could be a little impulsive, but even for him that was special. He was more than amazed she hadn't turned and ran down the sidewalk to get away from them yet.

Already feeling the blood run down her arm and to her hand, more than likely dripping to the pavement below them, she sighed, defeated. "Fine." She pulled up her sleeve and went to hold out her arm, but she paused. "Try anything funny and I _will_ kill you."

Dean gave a short not. "Noted." he replied sarcastically. He took her arm and opened the flask—the one only he and Sam knew contained holy water and salt—and poured it over her bleeding arm. It was almost like time had stopped for that brief second, where he and Sam held their breath to see if anything would happen, expecting her to flinch back in pain or for the familiar white stream to emanate from her skin—but nothing. She gave no reaction to it, other than a small wince of discomfort at the feeling of the water making contact with the gash.

Sam and Dean shared a look, because that only meant one thing—this girl was completely, one hundred percent, totally human. There was nothing supernatural about it. She was their sister. No question. And somehow, that made things even more complicated.

Roxy couldn't help but notice, especially after the performance he had just put on, that Dean seemed to be treating her with a new-found gentleness. All firmness in his grip had ceased, he supported her arm with just his fingertips as he wiped away the blood and excess water. Although he was acting like he was rough, like he had no patience, like he was a man who could kill anything and everything, there was a tenderness in how he wrapped the cloth around her arm, so not to cause her anymore pain. She just didn't understand him at all.

Slowly, he released his hold of her and she returned her arm to her side. No one spoke for a moment, each of them completely speechless. But Roxy cleared her throat and took a step backwards, indicating that she intended to continue with what she had been doing before Dean's little outburst.

Sam just nodded at her, as if to tell her to go, that it was done with, and turned to Dean as she walked away. He couldn't believe what he had just done. He admitted it, he had been stupid, his judgement had been clouded, he hadn't thought about the danger should she turn out to be something other than Haley, but there was a way of checking. There could have been a better way of doing it than lunging from the car and all but attacking her in the street.

"Smooth." he muttered once he was sure she was out of earshot of them, shaking his head at him. "Just, stay here, alright? Don't do anything."

For a moment, Dean looked like he was going to argue it, a frown on his face, but he seemed to realise what was going through Sam's head and thought twice about it. They weren't in a position to have an argument, not in their current situation. Everything was going unsaid in front of her, but Sam knew the second the two of them were alone it was going to be one hell of a conversation. He wasn't sure if he wanted to leave him and Roxy alone just yet, Dean's behaviour often became unpredictable when he was faced with a hardship he couldn't handle.

He didn't look too happy about it, but Dean nodded and said nothing as he watched Sam follow her towards the doors.

* * *

><p>Sam followed her into her apartment and closed the door behind himself softly, so not to make too much noise. It wasn't all that big, but it definitely didn't look cheap—he assumed she had to be earning a pretty decent wage with her job to be able to afford it. It was nicely decorated, and in surprise to him it was relatively clean. There were a couple of empty coffee cups lying on the table, as well as a couple of magazines and a few papers—but other than that it was tidy. He often remembered Haley's room being nothing but trashed when they had been kids. That was something else that she had always seemed to have in common with Dean, they had both developed the same attitude towards cleaning up, but here, she seemed to have changed.<p>

He heard some clattering coming from the room behind him, he presumed the kitchen. "You wanna drink, Sam?" her voice called from the somewhere before she appeared in the doorway with a bottle of whiskey in her hand, an eyebrow raised. "It's, uh, all I've got in at the minute." she added with a small laugh.

Sam nodded slowly and smiled. "Sure." he answered quietly as he took a few steps further into the room.

There were a few shelves at the other side of the room, mostly filled up with either movies or CDs—all of which he just knew would have made his brother proud—every film or band that Dean had ever expressed any liking for was on there. But for every action movie or rock album she owned, there was a book at the other side of the shelf.

He reached down and picked up a random book lying on the couch, raising his eyebrows and smiling a little. He had never known her to sit down and read a book before, not unless it was some kind of research for a case. "You do a lot of reading, huh?" he observed, more out of something to say than anything else.

A short laugh escaped Roxy at his question. She emerged from the kitchen and smiled a little as she handed him a glass of whiskey. "You know what, Sam, I know you probably won't believe me here, but, uh, I'm not such a bad girl." she replied simply as she turned and made a move towards what he presumed was her bedroom. "When you don't count what I do at the weekends, I'm pretty normal."

Sam had met strippers before, he'd met the girls that Dean used to so often insist of taking back to their motel room, and he had never met one he'd liked. In his experience, they all seemed to be just about the sex, or about themselves, or about the money—but she seemed like a genuine person. She seemed more like Haley than he had first thought her to be. There was something about her in the way that she seemed so down to earth, so normal, she reminded him of the way his sister used to be.

He wandered over towards the fireplace and glanced between the few photos placed above it. There was one of her and another couple of girls, it looked like it had been taken at a party somewhere, but she looked to be genuinely happy with them. There was another one, this one of her and the girl she had been with at the club and a guy, he was standing on her left, his arms wrapped around her waist from behind, a bright, happy smile on his face.

"Who's this?" Sam pressed curiously. She headed back into the room and dropped a duffel bag down on the couch, looking over at him. "Boyfriend?"

It hadn't even occurred to him what they could have been asking her to walk away from. She was twenty-eight after all. For all they knew she could have been married, she could have had kids and a family. He hadn't even thought about it. They were taking her away from her life, her friends, her job, everything that she had known for the past twelve years. And they hadn't even bothered to ask who she would have been leaving behind.

"Ex boyfriend." she corrected him. She paused what she were doing for a moment and cleared her throat. "He, uh, he died, couple of years back now."

"Oh," Sam looked down for a second, feeling a little uncomfortable. "I'm sorry." he answered lamely, placing the photo back down and glancing back to her. He watched her as she continued to arrange her bag, neither of them saying anything for a few seconds. "What happened to him?" he pressed curiously.

Roxy stopped what she was doing for a second and looked up at him to gave a small smile. "It, uh...it was drugs." she answered. "We both got pretty far into them, and, uh, let's just say only one of us got out again."

Sam nearly spat out his drink, spluttering as he tried not to choke on it. "Drugs?" he repeated, nothing but shock in his voice, he realised more shock than was probably normal for a guy who wasn't supposed to know her.

"Yeah, I mean, don't worry, I'm totally clean now." she shrugged. "But I had my rough patches when I was younger, I've done some stuff I'm not proud of."

He noticed how open she seemed to be, about everything. Whether it was that she just didn't care or not, he wasn't sure, but she didn't seem too bothered about what kind of impression she was giving to them. He knew that Haley would've taken a bullet before she sat down with someone and talked to them about her own life.

"You telling me you haven't?" she pressed.

Sam blinked, for a second he wasn't sure that he'd heard her right. "Excuse me?"

She smiled a little and turned to face him properly, folding her arms over her chest and raising her eyebrows as she did. There was a knowing look her face that said she knew better, but he wasn't quite sure what she had meant. It was a look he recalled seeing all too often when they had been teenagers, usually when she had busted him on something.

"Sam, I've worked as a stripper for most of my life," she began simply. "I've gotten myself way too involved in drugs and booze and all the crap that no one should go near, I know an ex addict when I see one." Sam frowned a little at her, he had a feeling now that he knew what she were getting at. "So, what was it?" she pressed curiously. "Hm? Booze? Crack?" She noticed Sam shift uncomfortably, looking away from her at the floor. "Worse?" she pushed.

Sam scoffed, only one thought now racing around his mind. _Demon blood. _"Something like that." he muttered. He hadn't even thought about that. The things that he had done over the years that she had been gone, the mistakes that he had made. If she ever came back, if she ever remembered who she really was, he was going to have to tell her. He was going to have to tell her about the night he walked out to go to Stanford. He would have to tell her that Dean went to hell because of him. He would have to tell her about the nights he walked out on Dean to meet Ruby, about when he was addicted to demon blood, about how he was the one who started the apocalypse. She would never look at him the same again.

"Hm," She narrowed her eyes a little but seemed to let it go. "You ready to go then?" she added brightly, closing the zip of the bag before she threw it over her shoulder and grabbed her keys from the table.

"You sure you've got everything?" he asked. "I mean, you're not leaving behind anything...important."

Roxy narrowed her eyes and slowly turned to face him, twisting the set of keys around in her hand. "Tell me something, Sam," she took a step closer to him, her stare intent. "Am I ever gonna come back here?"

He was a little taken aback, but then he realised, somewhere deep down maybe she knew. She wasn't afraid of dying, she wasn't afraid of walking away from her life, she wasn't afraid of anything. She was ready to run, she was ready to turn her back on that town, she didn't care. He'd seen that look before, maybe in himself, or maybe in Dean, there was nothing holding her there. She had nothing to stay for. She wanted out.

He opened and closed his mouth, unsure of how to answer. He knew the truth, and that was a no, but he had a feeling so did she.

"Yeah," she muttered. "That's what I thought."

With that, she turned out the light and pulled open the door without looking back.

* * *

><p><em>Three hours later<em>_ — Impala — 05:52am._

Dean cleared his throat, breaking the long and tense silence that seemed to have filled the car since they had left Roxy's apartment. Sam looked up at him expectantly as though he assumed he was going to say something, but Dean remained silent for another couple of minutes. He slowed down the car slightly as he turned off the highway and continued down a quiet road. It was almost six in the morning, the sun was beginning to rise and painted the sky a light mixture of pink and orange. Nothing had been said between them, Dean had been focused solely on the road ahead, as though he couldn't bring himself to look away, Sam had been staring blankly out of the window, and Roxy remained concentrated on her phone. Sam knew where Dean was heading, it was something they didn't need to discuss, when they were as clueless and confused as they were by her, there was only one place that either of them would think to go.

"Alright," Dean's voice eventually sounded through the silence in the car, his voice low and quiet. "I saw your face when you came out of there, what did she say to you?"

Sam frowned. "What?" He glanced back over his shoulder and noticed that she was sound asleep, her head leaned against her arm which rested on the window. He looked back to Dean, who was now shifting his eyes between him and the road, studying him for an answer. Sam realised that he had obviously been waiting for her to fall asleep since they had gotten back in the car.

He sighed slightly, unsure of how to answer him. He knew that he should probably tell him the truth about what she had said to him, yet he wasn't all that sure that Dean would be as accepting as he had been about it. It wasn't as though either of them could pretend they knew anything about her, but despite the situation he didn't think that Dean would allow himself to believe she had turned out bad. Honestly, he had been surprised how well he seemed to have taken the blow that she worked in a strip club. There was so much tension building up around the situation, he knew the second that he was away from her, Dean was likely to blow. But the two of them were doing their best to keep the whole thing calm until they were somewhere safe.

"I, uh, I don't think she's what she appears, Dean." Sam tried, not sure of what to say. His response had been hesitant, and Dean picked up on that.

He raised an eyebrow at him. "What d'ya mean?" he asked warily, not sure that he liked the uncomfortable tone in Sam's voice.

"I don't know how to explain it, Dean. She, uh, she seemed..." he paused, searching for the right word. "...normal." He glanced back at her and frowned a little. "But, I mean, what kind of person just lets two guys she's never seen before shove her in a car and never questions it? Something about it all just doesn't add up. It's weird."

"Doesn't add up?" Dean repeated incredulously. "You know what doesn't add up, Sam? The fact that she's even alive in the first place. I watched her die. There was no way she could have survived that, not a chance." He looked up at him as he didn't answer. "What is it?" he pushed.

"There was something else, too." he began slowly, unsure of how to word it, thinking through the best way he knew to explain what she had told him. It was always going to be better coming from him than Roxy telling him in the casual way she had told Sam. "In her apartment, there was this photo of her and this guy," He knew it was a dangerous road to be walking, as Dean's jaw was already clenched. "And, you know, I asked her if he was her boyfriend—"

"And?" Dean pushed impatiently, almost defensive.

"And she said he was dead." Dean looked up at him and raised his eyebrows, not seeing where he was going with it. "She said it was drugs. That they both got pretty far into them, and that only she got herself out again."

Dean's eyes fell back to the road, his mind anywhere but focused on his driving. He didn't say anything for a few seconds, like he didn't know how Sam expected him to react. "I'm sorry, drugs?" he eventually asked, settling on the idea that he must have heard him wrong. "Did you say drugs?"

"Yes, Dean." Sam muttered. "Drugs."

"No." Dean scoffed, shaking his head slowly. "My kid sister does not do drugs, Sam." he said bluntly.

Sam sighed heavily. "Dean, I bet a few hours ago you would've said that your kid sister wouldn't work as a stripper, and yet, there she is."

Dean just looked at him. "Hey, the chick I was talking to said she only worked there weekends, she might be a doctor from Monday to Friday for all we know." he retorted, obvious sarcasm in his tone. "And besides, stripping I can get my head around, it's a job. Not a job that I'm thrilled about, granted, but it's a job. Drugs are drugs. She's not that stupid."

"She's not Haley." Sam countered. "We have no idea what's happened to her over the past twelve years, Dean."

"So?" Dean shook his head, becoming more and more defensive over it. "That doesn't mean that she's some crack-head hooker, Sam."

Sam sighed in defeat, he knew that Dean would argue Haley's case, whether it was her or not, until he had proven his point. And he could see that they were heading towards a fight they couldn't afford to have. At least, not there. He had a feeling there was one coming though, and soon.

"Look, I'm just telling you what she said." he snapped. "I don't know anymore about her than you do. Now, we don't have a plan, we have no idea what the hell is going on, so maybe the best thing for you to do right now us just calm down until we can get some answers."

Dean blinked, he obviously hadn't been expecting it, he looked nothing but taken aback by Sam's harsh tone. He shook his head to show his annoyance, yet he said nothing. Realistically, they had no idea what they were doing. They had been told to find her, and so they'd found her. Except the one thing that they hadn't expected had been for the girl to be Haley. And now, they had their dead sister sleeping in the backseat of the car, with no idea who she was. Where were they supposed to start?


	4. Forgotten Family

_Thank you so much for reading the last chapter—and special thanks to those of you who left a review, sent me a PM, and those of favourited and followed! _

_Hope you enjoy this chapter! :-) _

* * *

><p><span><strong>Saving Grace<strong>

**Chapter Four: ****Forgotten Family**

_Later that morning__ — Sioux Falls, South Dakota —__10:57am__._

One of the most practical and important lessons that Bobby Singer had picked up over the many years that he had known the Winchester family was that, most of the time, it was better to just go along with them, and not to ask too many questions. Occasionally, they would show up at his door with a case or a new problem that they couldn't manage to solve between themselves, sometimes it was a freshly thought up and half-brained scheme that was more than likely destined to get them all killed, and at times they would show up at his door with the most outlandish situations that he could never have imagined.

Sam stood outside the doorway of his house on the porch, there was a small smile on his face that was clearly forced up in an attempt to cover the underlying concern and confusion that Bobby could so easily recognise. Behind him stood Dean, his face mirroring Sam's. The look that they shared instantly sparked up his interest of whatever their latest issue was going to turn out to be. But as his eyes fell back to Dean, and to the unconscious girl he held in his arms, he had an idea of who it involved. Her head was turned towards his chest and the visible side of her face covered by her brown hair—he couldn't tell who she was.

Bobby looked between the two brothers slowly, his curiosity rising by the second. Unsure of what to say to them, or how to react to the more than peculiar situation, he simply moved his wheelchair backwards and made room for them to enter the house. He pushed the door closed behind them quietly and then turned in time to see Dean place the girl down on the couch. He noticed that there was a gentleness in how he moved her, and a subconscious regard in the way he looked at her for a moment before standing up straight—whoever she was, Dean clearly cared for her. Bobby looked between them again as Dean moved to stand beside his brother, unsure of where to start, and admittedly a little thrown by the fact that neither of them had spoken to him yet. There weren't normally a lot of things that managed to stun the Winchesters into silence.

He eventually cleared his throat and glanced back to the girl who was sleeping peacefully on his sofa. She lay with her face turned towards the back of the couch, and only the side of her face was visible through her long brown hair. From the side where he sat he could see that she looked to be in her twenties, perhaps not that much younger than Dean. There was thick make up around both of her eyes, and staining her lips. He got the impression that she wasn't a hunter. To him, she looked more like a girl who Dean would have picked up in a bar somewhere and never called again.

"So, who's the girl?" Bobby pressed curiously, he glanced up at Dean and raised his eyebrows expectantly, like he assumed he already knew what he was going to hear. His tone was light, obviously an indication of him sensing no immediate danger in the situation. "You telling me that you're managing to date someone for more than just a weekend?" he added, all aspects of his voice were joking, but neither missed the underlying anxiousness in his words.

Sam scoffed at his comment, giving nothing more than a small, involuntary grimace at the thought of it.

"Gross." Dean muttered, shaking his head. "No." He looked back to her and took a short breath. There wasn't really an easy way to explain to someone that a member of their family, who they had thought to be dead for twelve years, had suddenly come back and was now sleeping on their couch. He didn't know where to start. "Bobby, I," He paused for a second and looked to Sam, as if searching his face for an answer, but he looked to be as clueless as his eldest sibling. "Look, you might wanna grab a drink." Dean tried, thinking of any way to make the news less daunting.

Haley had been like a daughter to Bobby, and Dean knew that. There was no telling how he was going to react to being told that she was back. Hell, Dean had witnessed what Bobby had been like after his own death, he had seen the effects in the number of empty liquor bottles lying around when he had returned. He hadn't seen the effect Haley's death had taken on him. There was no telling how he would react to such news. He had a feeling it was something he was going to struggle to believe, not that Dean would have blamed him for that, he was still trying to process the information himself.

Bobby narrowed his eyes at them, the comment clearly only making him more suspicious of them. He stood his ground and folded his arms over his chest, a hard and impatient frown on his face. "What's going on?" he pushed, his voice now completely serious.

Dean once again looked over to Sam, who gave him a small but encouraging nod. He sighed, getting the point that he was right and it was probably better to just get it over with, he didn't expect him to take it well either way. What was the point in dragging our the inevitable? However he phrased it, whatever words he used, it was still going to hurt. Talking about Haley would always hurt. "The girl...her name's Roxy, okay?" he began slowly, his eyes drifting towards her sleeping frame as he spoke. "Bobby, she's—she's our sister."

Bobby blinked, and then blinked again. He didn't say anything for a few seconds, just stared at them like they had finally gone insane. "She's your what?" he eventually responded, his words slow, almost hesitant, in case they were about to confirm what he thought he had just heard.

Dean looked over at her again and offered up a small shrug, turning back to him. "She's our sister, Bobby." he answered, a little more sure of himself this time. He seemed to take on a melancholy stance as he spoke about her. "It's Haley." he added. However much Dean tried to hide it, no matter how much emotion he shoved down and covered up, he couldn't hold the sadness from the small frown that graced his features.

Bobby didn't seem to be comprehending what Dean was saying to him. His mouth opened and closed as he slowly shook his head. "Dean," He just frowned, completely at a loss for words. "Haley's been dead for twelve years, son." he replied sadly, his voice empathetic, as though in fear that Dean actually believed his own words.

Bobby remembered all too well the night that he had received the phone call from John Winchester to tell him. They hadn't spoken to each other in over a month, and then one night, out of the blue, almost three in the morning, John had called him. Bobby could tell almost immediately that something had happened. He could tell by the way he hesitated with his answers, the way his voice was low and less demanding than it normally was. And then, with two words that he could still hear as clear as the night John had said them, _'She's dead.', _Bobby had known. He had always thought of Haley as the closest thing he'd had to a daughter, in the same way that he had thought of Sam and Dean as sons. And he had treated them that way.

It wasn't as though the thought of Dean eventually snapping hadn't crossed his mind before—with the amount of pressure that both heaven and hell had placed on him, the constant attacks directed towards him from the angels and the dreaded feeling he obviously had towards the pit, the amount of responsibility he placed on his own shoulders to protect everyone, to protect his brother—it wouldn't have surprised him if he'd eventually acted out. But he'd never anticipated it in a way like this. There was something in Dean's eyes that looked truthful and honest, something that hurt him. He knew that Dean truly believed what he was saying.

"Bobby." Dean's hard voice pulled him back from his thoughts. There was a note of urgency in it, a desperation to get through to him. "Just look at her, Bobby," he insisted. "You take one look at that girl and you tell me that she's not the one who grew up with us, because I know damn well that she is."

"Are you sure?" he questioned. He could see that Dean was becoming more riled up by the second, a frustration that let on he wasn't taking disagreement as an answer. It was going to be a case of believe him or stand there and be talked at until he believed him.

"It's her, Bobby." Sam seemed to find his voice again for the first time since they had knocked on the door. "We did the drill with her; silver, salt, holy water—nothing happened." He glanced down at her and shook his head cluelessly. "She isn't anything supernatural. She's just a girl."

"A girl who Cas sent us to find," Dean went on as he took a step forwards, raising his voice with every word. "Who has no idea who we are and just happens to be identical to our dead sister." He looked towards the ceiling, holding his hands out slightly. "So maybe he could get his ass down here and explain to us what the hell is going on!"

There was an anger and frustration in his voice, written all over his face. It was made up of confusion and fear, because having her back, something good happening to them for once, it never ended well. Nothing had ever seemed to go right for them without it coming with a price. He couldn't wrap his head around the fact that she had been alive all those years he had thought her to be dead. The idea that the amount of times over the past twelve years he had thought to himself, she is _exactly_ who he had needed at that point, the fact that she had probably been within a days drive and he hadn't known, it made him feel a little sick. They had taken hunts within an hour of where she had lived. They had walked through the streets of her town, he remembered them once eating in a diner that had been about twenty minutes from the club where she worked. The whole thing was nothing but frustrating.

"Dean." Sam warned, his voice remaining calm. "Chill out, okay? That's not going to help anyone, is it?"

Bobby gave a quick scan of the room, realising that Dean was only becoming madder with every answer he didn't get. And it didn't look like there were any angels at all dropping in to give some. "You said Cas sent you to find her?" he pressed curiously, changing the subject. "When?"

* * *

><p><em>Two Days Earlier<em>_ — Lafayette, Louisiana._

The beer bottle almost slipped through Dean's fingers as he turned around and unexpectedly came face to face with another man. "Jesus." he hissed, more out of shock than surprise.

By that time, he was so used to Castiel just popping in and out on them unannounced, it ceased to bother him anymore. But the times that he did it and forgot the concept of personal space, he couldn't help but jump back in shock. He took a step back from him to put a little more space between himself and the angel, a sharp sigh escaping him at the thought of what his latest visit could have been about. Lately, it had been all apocalypse and bad news, he was starting to get to the end of his tether with it all.

"Whaddaya want, Cas?" he grumbled, his exasperated tone letting on that he wasn't willing to do whatever he was about to be asked to do.

Whether it was about angels or demons, heaven or hell, Michael or Lucifer, the apocalypse or not—it never seemed to be good anymore. It was all starting to weigh Dean down. Sam was getting just as frustrated over the whole situation as he was, both of them rapidly getting to the end of their patience with the constant bombardments of angels, bad news, and pressure to say yes.

Castiel frowned a little, seeming to be a little taken aback by Dean's harsh tone. He was used to him being quite blunt in his responses, especially lately, but Dean appeared to be more tensed up than usual, and he knew that the next thing he was about to tell them could very well push one or both of them over the edge.

"I have news." Castiel replied simply. He glanced between the two brothers slowly for some kind of a response, getting nothing.

"Well," Dean shot him a sarcastic smile, his patience now long gone. "That's great, chuckles," he muttered. "What is it?"

Castiel chose to ignore the obvious sarcasm and mock enthusiasm in the hunter's answer. "There's a girl," he began. "In Madison, Wisconsin." Sam and Dean just looked at him, saying nothing. "Her name is Roxanne Coleman," he continued, realising he was getting no answer, the seriousness in his voice never faltered. "You need to find her."

"Uh," Dean paused, as though he was unsure of what to say to him for a moment. "Okay?" He raised an eyebrow questioningly. Normally he would have retorted with some facetious comment, but Castiel seemed to be deadly serious about it, more so than usual. "What's so special about her?" he pressed.

Castiel's eyes flickered from Dean's face to the floor for a second, an uncertain stance about him. "She's important." he replied flatly. "There is a price on her head, from both heaven and hell. You need to find her before they do."

Sam opened his mouth to say something—in fairness, he would have gone at that. Taking the fact that their friend needed help, someone's life was in danger, he would have gone. But Dean didn't look at all convinced.

"Well, here's the thing, Cas," he began, taking a couple of steps away from him, now looking anything but concerned with the situation. "Uh, Sam and I are kinda busy at the moment, you know, what with the apocalypse and such, being hunted down by your frat bros upstairs, being targets one and two for the legion of doom downstairs..." He trailed off and turned back to him. "So, for once, maybe, just maybe, you could just tell us what the hell's going on, hm?"

"Dean." Sam warned, he could see where the conversation was heading, and it was only going to end in an argument. "If heaven and hell are looking for this girl, there has to be a reason. We should find her."

"Sam—" Dean went to argue with him, but Castiel got there before he even had a chance to think up an answer.

"You need to protect her." he instructed bluntly. "Dean, you protect this girl from anything, you understand?"

Dean shook his head slowly. "Why, Cas? I mean, I honestly don't think that I have the energy to drive halfway over the country for some chick." Castiel just looked at him, narrowing his eyes a little, a deeper and more serious frown forming on his face. "Tell you what, if she's that important to you, then you go find her, take her out for a beer or something. There are way more pressing matters at hand here, in case you haven't noticed, we're the freaking vessels of the apocalypse. Maybe helping us with that little predicament would help first."

"Dean." Castiel cut him off sternly, with a tone neither Sam or Dean recalled hearing for months, not since Castiel had first shown his face. All the aspects of humanity and understanding or sympathy had vanished. "This _is _helping you. If the angels get their hands on this girl before you do, you are both going to be in danger."

They stared at each other for a long moment, as though they were continuing their discussion without words. He knew that there was some detail Castiel was leaving out, there was something that he wasn't telling them, like he knew something more and he wanted to keep it to himself. There was a frustration in Dean's stance, with the way he clenched his jaw as he looked at him, letting on that he wasn't happy about any of it.

"We'll find her, Cas." Sam cut in, the two of them turning to face him. "Don't worry about it. We got this."

Dean shot him a glare, shaking his head at him as though to tell him he'd deal with him later. Sam just rolled his eyes, remaining unphased by it all. By the time Dean turned back to Castiel, he had gone.

* * *

><p>"...and we haven't seen him since."<p>

Bobby released a long sigh as Sam finished telling him. "Well," he pondered his answer, shaking his head slowly. "That's something different." he commented, as though it was the only thing he could think to respond with. "Where did you even find her?"

Dean scoffed. "Oh, get this," His voice remained light, but there was an angry and defensive tone through it. Bobby got the impression he wasn't going to like what Dean was about to say. "She works in a friggin' strip club." he said. "Seen a side of her that no brother _ever _needs to see."

Bobby looked back to her. The last time that he had seen Haley was when she had been sixteen, about two months before she had supposedly died. Back then, she had been some punk ass teenager who was acting out for a bit of recognition from the one man who paid no attention to her. He had been a little taken aback by the situation. John had all but knocked down his front door in the middle of the night, completely unannounced, and left her there without more than a few mumbled sentences about her needing some time away. Dean had been in the car, a look on his face that said he wanted to get out and sort everything out, but he had clearly been told to keep his mouth shut. And then he had stormed back to the car and taken off down the road, all in the space of about a minute. When Bobby had turned back to his living room, it was to find a girl sitting on the couch, her head in her hands, looking as though she was going to be sick. Her hair sported streaks of pink and blue, and her ear had four piercings on the side that he could see. When she looked up at him, he saw her nose and eyebrow held silver studs. And she looked wasted.

The next day he had gotten calls from both Sam and Dean, he assumed in the privacy of anyone else, both telling him the same thing—that she had been fighting their dad for about a month, and he had finally snapped and had enough of her. Sam had sounded nothing but upset, practically begging Bobby to sort out what he knew Dean couldn't, while Dean just sounded mad, and it wasn't at his sister. Bobby had called John and tried to explain that most teenagers went through the phase of rebellion, that ditching her wasn't solving anything, that her brothers wanted her back, that he couldn't realistically see what he had gotten so mad about in the first place, but he never managed to get through to him. And so she had stayed with him for almost a month, not speaking to her dad once, before John had given in and finally gotten around to picking her up again.

"So, you found her working in a strip club," Bobby thought out loud. "And then you came straight here?" Both Sam and Dean nodded at him. "I'm gonna guess that means she doesn't know you're her brothers?" he questioned.

Sam gave a short, dry laugh. "Well, it's not really something that you can drop into conversation, is it?" he replied, his tone remained light and casual, but the underlying worry was clear. "Hey, Roxy, you've never seen us before but we think you're our dead sister." he added simply. "Don't think that one would've gone down great with her."

Bobby opened his mouth to answer him but Dean's hard tone stopped the words before they had even left his mouth.

"What did you just call her?" Dean rounded on Sam with his question, his voice hard. Both Sam and Bobby turned to look at him, seeming a little taken aback, confused frowns mirrored on each other's faces. "Her name is Haley, Sam."

Sam released an exasperated sigh, shaking his head at him. "No, her name is Roxy." he said flatly.

Dean scoffed. "You are joking?" Sam looked away from him, as though he couldn't even comprehend the fact that they were discussing it in the first place. "Oh, you're not joking." he answered his own question when Sam didn't bother. "I am not calling her Roxy, okay, Sam? Her name is Haley, end of story. Roxy's her stripper name."

Sam looked on at him in disbelief. "Dean, this girl obviously has no clue who she is." he retorted. "I mean, I don't know what happened to her anymore than you do, but what we have here is an identical copy of our supposedly dead sister, going by another name and working as a friggin' pole dancer." Dean looked away from him, refusing to give an answer. "Can you really see Haley doing _anything _like that? I'll bet you she knows nothing about what happened to her, hell, I'll be you she can't think of anything that happened before that night." His voice was steadily rising as his patience lowered. "Cas has gone AWOL since we found her, and as long as he says that heaven and hell are out for her neck, it's probably best that we try to keep her calm, rather than start calling her by another name and telling her that she has two brothers that she doesn't think she's ever seen before."

Dean simply blinked, for a second he looked to be nothing but shocked at Sam's tone. But he quickly recovered and shook his head. "No. I am not going to stand here and lie to my own sister's face." he answered, his tone remaining hard in an attempt to maintain control of the situation.

"You're not going to lie to her face?" Sam repeated incredulously. "Dean, you have done nothing _but _lie to her since we found her." he countered. "Oh, and, uh, pulling a gun and threatening to shoot her? Slicing her arm in the middle of the street? Nice move. That's how you want to make her feel safe, is it? Because she didn't look far from calling the cops. Way to get her to trust us there, bro, really."

Dean looked up at him like he was stupid. "Sam, she was never going to come anywhere near us." he said defensively. "It had to be done."

Their argument was quickly cut short as she shifted slightly on the couch, acting as a reminder to them that they were not alone in the room. Dean glanced down at her, thinking over the times that he had gotten into fights with her, more than half the times she would say something in the middle of an argument that would just make him laugh, enough to stop it all. She had never been one to fight, not with them. She always seemed to have a way of defusing a situation before it became too out of hand. He remembered the times that Sam and their dad had gotten into arguments, she had always been the one to step in and calm it down. He could have used her there for that now.

Something seemed to dawn on Bobby—she had lived with him for a month—he had never known her to sleep so much. Now she was sleeping through a full-blown argument between her brothers. Something wasn't right with that. "Is she sleeping, or is she knocked out?" he asked, genuinely curious. He couldn't imagine either Sam or Dean having it in them to knock her out, but then he didn't know how much of a fight she had put up.

Both Dean and Sam looked down at him, as if they had only just remembered that he was there, too. Sam shifted a little, because he knew what Bobby was getting at. Haley had never been someone who could sleep through noise—none of them were. They had been trained into it. If a noise was heard in the night, it was always a potential threat. They were brought up to react to every single sound, as if they slept with one eye open. And now, she was sleeping through car journeys, through being carried around, through arguing and raised voices—that wasn't her.

Hell, in reality, this girl had effectively been kidnapped. She should have been on edge, she should have been looking for answers or looking for an escape. She shouldn't have been relaxed enough to just fall asleep. There was only one thing going through Sam's head, and it wasn't good, but he had to ask himself, why was she really sleeping? Was she just tired? Or had she taken something? There was a sense of truthfulness in her words, whatever she said, Sam had gotten the feeling she hadn't been the type to lie about things, she was blunt and to the point—she had been more than willing to tell him she had used them in her past, he couldn't see why she would have lied and said she no longer did if it wasn't true. But, he had to wonder. He just hoped that he was wrong.

But Dean didn't seem to have put two and two together yet, and that wasn't something he wanted. Dean didn't need those thoughts in his head, too. So Sam spoke up before he had the chance to think any further into it.

"She's just sleeping." he muttered, as though it couldn't have been less of a concern. "She, uh, she went down in the car."

"Huh." Bobby narrowed his eyes at Sam, and that was when he knew, with the look the youngest Winchester shot him, as if begging him not to go further into it, he closed his mouth. Something was going on.

Dean seemed to relax slightly in that moment, shaking his head in defeat though Sam had already stepped back from their argument. "You know what would help?" he went on, his voice remaining angry but much quieter. "If Cas could get his friggin' ass down here and tell us what the hell is going on."

"I'm here, Dean." A familiar voice deadpanned from behind them.

The two of them span around in surprise to see the familiar angel standing behind them. His eyebrows were knitted together in a concentrated frown, his eyes never leaving Dean's angry face. He looked on in curiosity, as though he couldn't comprehend why they had called him there.

"About damn time." Dean snapped. "Where the hell have you been?" Castiel opened his mouth to answer him, but stopped again at Dean's words. "No, scratch that, I don't care. What the hell is going on, Cas?" he demanded, taking a step forwards as he spoke. "I mean, when you sent us halfway across the country to find this girl, did it somehow slip your mind to let me know that it was my little sister?!" he pressed impatiently, pointing down to where she slept on the couch as he spoke.

Castiel followed the direction he was pointing in, staring at her for a few seconds before he looked back to Dean. "You're angry." he stated bluntly, seeming only riling Dean up further.

He scoffed, incredulous. "You're damn right, I'm angry." he barked. "How did you know where she was?"

Dean's tone was turning defensive, in a way that Sam could tell meant he was going to get madder than he already was. It was a tone he had heard all too many times in the past, if anyone had so much as looked like a threat to her, Dean would go straight into overprotective mode. And right now, Castiel seemed the only one available for Dean to place the blame and frustration on. "Dean, calm down." he tried, making an attempt to cool the situation down.

"No." he snapped at his brother, now looking past calming down. "How did you know where my sister was, Cas?"

Castiel looked down at the floor for a few seconds, shifting uncomfortably. "I didn't." he answered slowly. "I act on heaven's orders, Dean. I was told that the girl needed to be found, and that she needed to be found alive."

Sam frowned. In the entire time he had known him, he had never seen Castiel hesitate or look so uncertain about an answer. There was something about the way he had refused to look at any of them as he responded, or the way that he had clearly had to think twice before saying anything. Sam got the impression that he had been lying, but he couldn't understand why. However, that didn't seem to be what had bothered Dean, his protective nature was in complete control.

"The girl has a name, Cas." he told him flatly, like he was warning him about how he spoke about her. "Why does heaven want her? Or, why does hell want her?" he added curiously.

"Isn't it obvious?" Sam cut in. Dean turned back to face him, raising his eyebrows as if to say no. "They want her to get to us." Dean still didn't seem convinced. "Think about it, we weren't saying yes, they're getting desperate."

"So, what?" he frowned. "They bring our sister back from the dead?"

Sam nodded slowly. "Except she wasn't dead, she was living in Wisconsin." he answered.

That was the part that he couldn't get his head around. He could accept the rest of it. If she had died and then the angels had brought her back as some kind of way to mess with their heads, he could understand it. But the thought that she had been alive all along, when Dean and their Dad claimed to have watched her die, it didn't add up. He couldn't comprehend that she had been alive the whole time, and that she just couldn't seem to recall who they were. He knew that she couldn't have remembered them, she didn't have it in her to keep them in the dark over something as big as that.

"This doesn't make _any_ sense," Dean muttered, pulling a rough hand down his face in frustration. "At all."

"You need to keep her safe." Castiel said simply, finally looking away from her and returning his attention to Sam and Dean. "Sam's right, heaven and hell will want to get their hands on her right now."

"Don't tell me to keep my own kid sister safe." Dean seethed, that comment seemed to push him way over the edge. If there was one thing he wouldn't take it was someone else telling him he needed to keep his family safe, as though he would ever forget, the only person who had ever told him that was their dad. It was like a second nature to him, as though Castiel had just reminded him he needed to breathe to live. "Or, you know what, Cas, here's a thought, how about _you_ do something to protect her?" His voice fell lower. "Her life shouldn't be in danger because of your family."

Castiel looked down again, penitent. "I know." he answered slowly. "And I am sorry." he added sincerely. "I'm sorry for everything."

Sam and Dean both frowned at the vague comment from him. It was a rare thing that Castiel ever looked so remorseful or contrite. "What?" Sam questioned, but Castiel had already vanished.

Dean let out a long, tired and frustrated sigh. "Well, that's just friggin' great." he muttered, shaking his head to himself. "You get the impression that he knew more than he was letting on there?" He looked from the spot he had been standing in to Sam, and then to Bobby.

Sam nodded slowly. "Definitely." he replied, certain of it.

Dean ran a hand though his hair and frowned while he tried to think. It wasn't like Castiel to lie to them, not without what he must have thought to be a seriously good reason. He wasn't sure he liked to think what that could be, especially where Haley was involved. It seemed like he had known more about her than what he had indicated, that maybe he knew something more about why she had been brought back into the situation, or why she had been alive in the first place. None of it made any sense at all to him.

"What are we supposed to do now?" he asked cluelessly, more to himself than to Sam or Bobby.

"I don't know," Sam sighed deeply and turned to look at her properly. "Take her upstairs? Let her sleep." he suggested. "Then hit the net, see if we can find out anything about her. You know, check her police files, check where she's been the past twelve years, that kinda thing."

Dean nodded, he knew it was the best idea any of them were going to have. "Alright, you get on that." he instructed. "I've got her."

Sam eyed him warily for a second. "You sure?"

"Uh-huh." he took a step forwards and picked her up gently, as though he thought his life depended on him not waking her up. He carried her upstairs and managed to open the door to what had once been her bedroom without disturbing her. He stepped inside and placed her down on the bed softly, taking a minute to look her over slowly. The whole situation was just beyond strange, he wasn't sure that it had really sunk in that she was back, it all seemed too surreal to him, as if he expected her to just dissipate into thin air before his eyes. He draped a blanket over her and took a step back, letting out a small sigh.

For a moment he was going to leave, but something stopped him. He paused in the doorway and looked around the room, no one had been in there for years, he could tell that. He could take a guess that the last person who had been in there had actually been Haley, all those years ago. Bobby had never had the heart to change that. He had lost the girl who had been like a daughter to him and yet he had left her bedroom there as though waiting for her to come back.

Dean's eyes fell to a photo she had left lying on the dresser the last time she had been there. Curious, he took a step closer and picked it up, a sad frown forming on his face as he looked at it. It was of the three of them with their parents, back when they had been kids, Sam didn't even look more than a few days old. There was another one beneath it, taken of them when they had been teenagers, possibly just a few months before everything had gone wrong for them. They were all smiling brightly, as though they didn't have a care in the world, like there weren't monsters lurking in the shadows and they weren't all destined to a dark and evil future. There was a dark blue jacket left lying on the back of a chair, one that he had forgotten all about, she had worn it all the time as a teenager. He found his fingertips lingering on the material for a moment as he thought back to the days when everything had seemed so easy.

Being back in there with her brought back a lot of memories that he had long since forgotten about. They weren't necessarily painful memories anymore, they made him smile a little as he thought back, but at the same time they seemed to tear him apart, the thought that she might never remember who she had been hurt. But despite how hard they could be, they weren't memories that he would ever want to let go of, he figured at least one of them should be able to remember who she had been.

He just hoped that wouldn't have to be the case.

* * *

><p><em>Hope you enjoyed this chapter, thank you for reading!<em>

_So, Haley is back with her brothers, where she belongs! Castiel is acting shify (hmmmm), and Dean is already right back into big-bro-mode. I know this chapter brought up a couple questions, but don't worry because everything will be explained in the future chapters! _

_The next couple of chapters are really going to focus on what happened to 'Roxy' over the twelve years she was away from Sam and Dean, and how the brothers deal with everything that is happening while they search for answers to what happened to her. And obviously, because I know you love them, there are a lot of sibling moments coming up very soon! _

_As always, the next update will be Friday! So, see you in a week! Don't forget to review! :-) _


	5. Forced Smiles, Genuine Lies

_Okay, I know, it's Saturday now, not Friday, but I totally lost track of days this week! I apologise, it won't happen again! ;-) _

_Thank you so much for the lovely reviews on the last chapter! A lot of you have agreed with me that there have been a lot of questions raised, especially in the last chapter, about Haley's past, and like I said everything will be revealed gradually, gotta keep the suspense up somehow, right? ;) But, don't worry, I'm not planning to leave you hanging or anything, I already have this story planned out until like chapter fifty ;-) So everything will be explained, and it will all eventually make sense, I promise! _

_Anyway, thank you once again for all of the support you have given me with this story so far and I hope you enjoy this chapter! :)_

* * *

><p><span><strong>Saving Grace<strong>

**Chapter Five: Forced Smiles, Genuine Lies**

_Bobby's House__ — __01:25pm_

Dean wandered through the house, his mind all over the place, and headed into the kitchen where he found Sam still sitting at his laptop, a deep and concentrated frown fixed into his face. He had been the same for the past couple of hours at least, Dean not having heard him move even once. The entire house seemed to have filled with a sharp and unpleasant tension ever since they had arrived there, it filled the air between them, none of them wanting to be the first to attempt to break it. None of them wanted to jump to any conclusions, they didn't want to voice the hundreds of awful thoughts that had formed at the thought of what could have happened to Haley to turn her into the girl sleeping upstairs. All they wanted was answers, they wanted to know what had gone down all those years ago to leave them in the situation they were in, because none of it added up. And since Castiel's hurried exit and clear avoidance of giving them a straight answer, Dean had refrained from calling him back for help. He'd settled on the idea that, whatever it was that Castiel knew about it, there was obviously no good news involved. But Dean knew that if Castiel were so insistent that he and Sam couldn't know about it, there was no chance that he was about to change his mind and tell them. So Dean left it, hoping deep down that Castiel would think it through and decide to come back and help them. Because, god knows they needed it.

He honestly felt a little lost, as though he wasn't sure what to do with himself. After what had felt like weeks and weeks of continuous hunting, with the adrenaline pumping through him none stop in order for him to keep himself going, things had suddenly come to a complete stop. He felt as though they had been running for weeks, either from demons or angels or destiny or Lucifer, he wasn't sure anymore, but he'd hardly had time to sit down and think anything through. Except now they were held up in one place, unable to go anywhere, and that had given him all the time in the world to be alone with his thoughts, time that he hadn't wanted. He couldn't bring himself to wake Haley up again because he just didn't know what to say to her. It felt like he was having a conversation with a stranger. Sure, she looked like Haley, she sounded like her, and sometimes she even talked like her, but it wasn't his sister, she wasn't the same girl that he had practically raised anymore. Whatever had happened to her had changed her, and more than just her name, it had made her forget them, and that honestly hurt him more than the thought of her being dead. It was like having her back and losing her all over again.

"So?" Dean pressed curiously as he crossed the kitchen and took a beer from the fridge. He leaned against the counter and opened it, tossing the cap across the room to the trash. "You found anything interesting?"

He and Sam had barely spoken to each other at all over the past couple of hours, neither of them had known what to say. It was like a silence had fallen over them which neither could bring themselves to end. Their mood remained strained and uncomfortable, filled with confusion and unanswered questions, yet neither of them did anything to change it. Dean was at a complete loss of what to do, it was as though he was still shocked into silence, and Sam was just trying to be practical, focusing all his attention on finding answers to a question even he didn't look sure of. Dean didn't honestly believe that Sam knew what he was looking for himself, he just seemed to want a distraction from his own thoughts, the same as he did. They didn't want to get their hopes up, because nothing ever came good to them without a price. All they knew was that, according to what Castiel had said, there was a good chance that they only had a matter of time before the angels made a move for her. They were both on edge.

"Well," Sam sat back in his chair as his eyes continued to scan the screen of his laptop, he wasn't sure how Dean would take what he was about to tell him. "I'll say this for her, Dean, she's built herself up a pretty colourful record these past few years." he muttered, something in his tone sounded like concern, and that made Dean uneasy.

He raised an eyebrow at him, Sam could see him trying to look as though none of it particularly phased him, but his curiosity was obvious peaked. "Such as?" he asked.

Sam cleared his throat and glanced back to the screen. "Well, she was arrested three times for fighting, which kinda gives the impression that maybe she's not as helpless as you seem to think she is." he added lightly.

He shot Sam a short glare at the comment. It was no secret that he had been on complete defence since they had found her, or that he had been upstairs checking on her as often as he could without letting on to Sam, which, by his third 'bathroom break' in the space of half an hour, he had done. He had become temperamental since they had arrived at Bobby's, every little noise that he heard would put him on edge as though he expected it to be the wrath of heaven waiting to crash down around them. It wasn't like Sam blamed him, he understood it. All his life he had made it his job to protect her and keep her safe, and then he hadn't been able to do it, he'd watched her die, and he wanted to put it right, he didn't want anything else to happen to her. But he could see how he was likely to switch back to his overprotective mode again with her around, it was only a matter of time.

Dean shook his head slowly. "I never said that she was helpless." he retorted, his voice low. Hell, with the hit he had taken from her, he knew for a fact that she was anything _but_ helpless. "I said that she wasn't a hunter, which means that we watch her back until she wakes up, and then we find out how much she knows." he said simply.

Sam just ignored the statement, figuring there were more pressing matters to discuss. "Anyway," He looked back to his laptop and gave a short sigh. "There are charges here for breaking and entering, trespassing with a firearm, violent disorder, possession of false identity documents, escaping from lawful custody both with and without force," Dean couldn't help but snicker to himself at that one, getting nothing more than a sharp glare from Sam in response, indicating he found it anything but funny. "Resisting arrest and possession of drugs." he finished bluntly. "She's lucky she's still walking the streets, Dean."

Dean took a drink of his beer and thought it all through for a couple of minutes, unsure of how to react. Coming from a hunter most of it seemed like something done in a day's work, yet she wasn't a hunter anymore. He could see that Sam was clearly more concerned about it all than he was, he'd always had more of a problem with breaking the law than he or Haley ever had, especially when they had been teenagers. The only thing that he couldn't work out was if she had been living a normal life, if she'd had a stable job and she'd been happy, he couldn't imagine why she would have needed to be involved with the cops, or why she would need to break the law.

"Well," he began, his voice remaining upbeat. "I see that she didn't bother to calm down her criminal activity even without her memory." he quipped, playing it off as though it didn't really bother him.

Sam shook his head at him in disbelief and closed his laptop, using a little more force than was necessary. "This isn't funny, Dean." he rebuked.

"I'm not laughing." Dean countered, a little more seriously, but Sam still didn't look convinced. "Look, there's nothing that we can do until she wakes up, right? Once she does we can just ask her, I mean, it's not like she works particularly hard to hide anything from us, is it?" Sam opened and closed his mouth, he looked like he wanted to argue but nothing came out. "And so what if she was a bit or a tear away, she was a tear away twelve years ago, she's fine enough. How many of us here aren't wanted by the Feds, Sam?" Sam's expression never faltered, he wasn't about to back down, and Dean just sighed. "Don't worry about it. You know, as far as I'm concerned, if she hasn't gone on a killing spree we don't have a problem." he finished with a small smile and nodded at him reassuringly. "I'm gonna go see if Bobby's found anything." he added, pushing himself forwards to the door without saying another word.

Sam watched him leave and let out a small sigh, pulling a rough hand down his face. It wasn't what she had done that bothered him, he was the last person to judge anyone for getting into a little trouble with the police. He could accept that maybe she had been a little reckless even after she had left, but yet, he had been under the impression that she had been living a normal life, that she had started over and gotten away from all the negativity that came along with the life of hunting, but he was starting to see more and more of Haley in her, she was starting to seem more like her old self than either he or Dean had first realised.

Especially since trying to leave the life and start again hadn't worked out for him, he would have liked to think that at least one of them had gotten a real chance at having a life, but now he wasn't so sure. It had seemed a blessing that instead of spending twelve years dead like they had thought she had been alive and happy, but he wasn't all that sure of what her life had been, he wasn't certain that it had all been good for her. She appeared to be just the same girl who didn't remember her upbringing. He had the thought that maybe if she had remembered what they had been taught, and she knew the amount that they had learned through the number of years they had spent being trained how to dodge the police by their Dad, maybe her record would have been a lot cleaner. He shook his head to himself and took a short breath, unsure of what to think about it, or if he even wanted to think about it.

A part of him thought that Dean was right, just because she'd been in some trouble didn't necessarily have to mean that she hadn't had a good life there, or that she was some kind of criminal, for all he knew it could have just been a few cases of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, or that she had gotten herself involved with a bad crowd. Yet something told him that she had known full well what she had been doing, she didn't look the type to be influenced or manipulated by anyone, she hadn't seemed scared to stand up to them, or frightened when they had taken her with them. She had been completely serene with the entire situation. But something about that just didn't sit right with him, he found it odd.

His thoughts came to an abrupt halt at the sound of someone heading down the stairs in the next room. He frowned a little and pushed himself to his feet before he crossed the room towards the door. He slowly pushed it open and smiled a little. Roxy turned to face him, a clear look of confusion on her face as she took in her surroundings. He still couldn't believe it. Out of all the things that could have happened to them, he never thought for a second that it would be possible for her to be standing in front of him again, but it was. Whether she knew it or not, she was still their sister, and she was alive and breathing.

"Hey," Sam offered up a small, awkward smile, making a lame attempt to appear less of a threat to her, not that he assumed she cared either way. "You alright?"

Roxy nodded slowly. "Yeah," She frowned a little at him, he got the impression that it hadn't been what she had expected him to say. "You know, I had this crazy dream," she went on, her voice bright. Sam raised an eyebrow inquisitively, unsure of how she was remaining so calm at what must have been such a strange situation for her. "These two crazy guys pulled a gun on me and drove me halfway across the country." Sam sighed, looking down as a smirk slowly spread over her face. "Oh wait." She shot him a look, only making him feel more guilt towards her.

There was a sarcasm and playful tone in her voice, letting on to him that she was joking. She didn't sound angry about it, she didn't sound scared or even bothered about what was happening with her. He could only wonder what kind of a life she had been living for the past twelve years that had left her in a position that she could go along so easily with something like that. The Haley that he remembered would have been kicking their asses to get herself out of there before she could even wait to find out why they had wanted her. But this girl, Roxy, she seemed to be taking it all in her stride, her calmness holding up faultlessly. He wondered if she was as outgoing with everything she did, if she had always held the same convivial and insouciant attitude to her.

"Look, I get that this must be weird for you, and I can't really explain to you why we need you here but we do." he sighed and gave her a small, apologetic shrug. He knew there was no way they could fully make her understand, he was working with the idea that her trust in them was enough to keep her there, but he knew in the back of his mind that wouldn't hold forever, he wasn't sure that she even trusted them now. "And I'm sorry, I am, but we can't let you go."

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me." she sighed, not looking at all surprised by what he had said.

Sam watched her face completely fall at his words, seeming more out of annoyance that anything else. Something else that he had noticed about her was that she didn't seem to like being told what to do, so far it was the only thing that he had seen that seemed to phase her in the slightest. Everything else she had been pretty easy-going about, never saying a word in disagreement, but her expression had completely changed as he had said that. It remained vacant of fear, if he didn't know better he would have said that she looked as though her biggest concern was that not being able to leave somehow inconvenienced her. She looked to be confused, even frustrated, but there remained no hint of anything more. Something else crossed his mind, he remembered someone else who hadn't liked being told what to do; Haley. If she had been asked to do something she would generally just have done it, yet when someone tried to make her do something she had always been far less willing. The little similarities between who she was and who she had once been were becoming more and more regular the more he spoke to her.

"You know, I'll admit that I'd had a few to drink last night, and honestly the two of you kinda interested me, and you know what, I was probably running on adrenaline, and I get that probably didn't work in my favour, but I've really gotta get back, okay?" She didn't say it like she was asking him to let her go, but she didn't say it as though she was trying to tell him, she just said it. There was no real emotion in her voice and there was nothing there to give any indication of how she was truly feeling about the situation.

"Roxy, please," Sam sighed, he didn't know what else he could say to her. There was no way to properly explain to her what was going on, not in a way that would leave her thinking that they were sane. The truth would send her running in the opposite direction, no doubt. The best thing he could think to do was to keep her calm. "I can't let you go anywhere," he said flatly. "You're just gonna have to trust me on this. We won't hurt you. But you can't leave."

She narrowed her eyes at him, a hint of a smile playing on her face. "Well, if you're not gonna hurt me, what's stopping me from leaving?" she challenged him, a knowing smirk forming on her face as though she knew that she had him beat.

Sam just stared at her, now completely lost for words. He wasn't sure of how to take any of what she said anymore, there was always some underlying tone in her voice that proved she didn't feel threatened by them, and he wanted to know why that was. He knew most people, anyone who had an ounce of common sense, would have been freaked out by then, but he couldn't put his finger on what it was about her. He didn't understand why, if she wasn't at all afraid of them, she hadn't just left already, why she hadn't turned and just walked out of the door, something was keeping her there. He couldn't work out whether or not, given the opportunity, she would really leave.

He gave another small sigh and shrugged at her. "I guess that I'd have to stop you." he replied, resolute, offering her a small, unwavered smile.

Roxy raised an eyebrow at him, the smirk returning to her face as though she had thought him to be joking. There was an expression on his face that gave away he didn't want to elaborate on it, and that he wasn't really willing to harm her, yet he looked completely serious, she couldn't figure him out. She seemed to catch on that he wasn't kidding around and nodded slowly, more to herself than to him. "Great," she muttered. "That's just great. I get kidnapped and the guy who commits it has more of a soul than I do." She sighed and crossed the room casually, if he didn't know better he'd have said that she was trying to scope the place out.

There was a confidence in how she acted, how she spoke, she didn't seem to have a problem with making herself at home there. He watched her cautiously as she headed to the window, glancing around outside as though she was trying to determine where they were. She turned back to him and gave a small smile, a part of him thought maybe to put him at ease, before she crossed back over the room. "So, you got a kitchen in this place?" she asked lightly. "I don't really function great in the morning until I've had a coffee."

Sam glanced down at his watch and raised an eyebrow. "It's half one in the afternoon." he quipped, a smirk of his own forming.

Roxy rolled her eyes at him. "Okay then, smart guy," she countered. "I don't wake up properly without caffeine, whatever time of the day I sleep 'til."

Sam chuckled to himself, nodding slowly. "Through there." he said, nodding to the kitchen door behind him, turning to it. She followed him through the door and dropped down into one of the chairs at the table, a deep sigh escaping her as she did. She seemed to momentarily give up her search for answers, more concerned with picking at her nail polish. "How'd you take your coffee?" Sam asked, glancing over his shoulder at her.

"Black." she replied. "Nothing in it."

Sam smiled a little. "Just like Dean." he mumbled to himself, turning and setting it down in front of her before he took a seat in the chair opposite, looking her over carefully.

There had been one thing bothering her since the moment they'd walked into the club the previous night, the only thing that she was really concerned with getting an answer to. "Who the hell are you people?" she eventually asked, looking up at him seriously. The joking was gone from her voice, the sarcasm and nonchalant guard let down for a moment.

Sam cleared his throat and looked down at the table. He knew there was only so much that he could tell her, but she had been beyond patient with them. She had gone along with them and kept her mouth shut, she hadn't kicked up a fuss or tried to be difficult, he knew they owed her some kind of explanation for what they were doing, even if it wasn't the entire truth. "My name's Sam." he answered simply. "Sam Winchester. And the guy who was with me last night, that's my brother, Dean." he explained, thinking through his next comments carefully. He wasn't sure what to say.

Roxy raised an eyebrow at him and gave a short nod. "Dean." she pondered. "You mean the one who slashed my arm with a knife and pulled the gun on me?"

He shifted uncomfortably, offering up a sheepish smile. "Yeah, that's the one." he mumbled, nothing but guilt in his voice. "He's not as scary as you think, you know, you grow to like him."

A soft chuckle escaped her at that, like she thought the idea of him scaring her was nothing but stupid. "Oh, I don't think he's scary." she assured. "I think you're both nuts."

Sam couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah, most people do." he replied, a comment made more to himself than to her. He looked over her slowly as she casually sat back and took a drink of the coffee, the thought of leaving or being agitated that he had told her to stay seemed to have escaped her mind, she seemed more than composed. There wasn't a note of concern on her face, nothing to indicate that she felt the slightest bit uncomfortable with him. "Hey, can I ask you something?" he started tentatively, unsure of how she would take it, he wasn't all that sure it was even a good idea to ask her in the first place, but his curiosity about her was getting the better of him.

Roxy shrugged, taking another drink of the coffee, seeming to think nothing of it. "Shoot." she muttered.

He looked down for a moment, thinking of the best way to go about it. With her, it seemed best to just get straight to the point. "Are you, ya know," He paused, looking up to face her. "Are you happy?" he finally asked, studying her face for a reaction. "With your life, your job, I mean..." He trailed off, not completely sure on what he meant anymore. "Do you have something going on?"

Roxy stared at him, a small, enquiring frown forming on her face as she thought about it. She looked perplexed. Her head tilted to the side, her eyes narrowed at him. It seemed a strange thing for someone who didn't know her to ask. She was starting to get the impression that it hadn't been just some random choice of person to take with them, there was the suspicion there that they had known exactly who they were taking. They had known where she worked, where she would be, how to find her; she had a feeling that they knew a hell of a lot more about her than what she did about them. She remembered the looks on their faces when they had first seen her, they'd looked completely speechless, they looked at her as though they knew her. She remembered thinking to herself how strange their behaviour seemed to be, how they seemed to be pushing back emotion while they spoke to her, fighting to keep calm, the silent looks between each other before either of them spoke. It all struck her as strange.

"What makes you ask that?" she asked simply, her voice never faltering, still holding nothing but complete stoicism.

Sam just shrugged like it hadn't been a big deal to him either way, as though it had just been something that had come up in conversation, but they both knew that it was more than that. "I don't know." he muttered, looking away from her for a second. "You just, you seem like you're a little bit too okay with this." He looked back to her as she said nothing, her eyes fixed on the mug of coffee in her hands. "You came with us, Roxy," he went on. "Most people in your position would have hightailed it to the cops, but you, I don't know...it's like you didn't even think twice about it. You just got into that car without so much as an argument. So what's that about?"

Despite what he said to her, she still refused to let him get to her. She leaned back in the chair and gave a small, unconcerned shrug as though the issue couldn't have bothered her less. "Well, no offence, but I genuinely meant what I said, your brother didn't look too shy about shooting me last night." she muttered. "So, I figured I could either come quietly or the two of you might bundle me into your trunk." she added lightly, a note of sarcasm in her tone.

"I don't bundle anyone into my trunk." A new voice came from the doorway. Sam looked back over his shoulder as Dean walked into the kitchen. He looked between the two of them casually as he made a move to sit down beside Sam. He looked across the table to her and gave a short smile. "I wouldn't have started with you."

Roxy gave a short, humorless laugh, she looked far from sure about his answer. "Hm, sure." She was starting to find it more and more difficult to determine when they were being serious and when they were being sarcastic, especially with Dean. They seemed nothing but insane, yet they both seemed completely driven and focused. She looked back to Sam and raised an eyebrow at him. "So, is there anything else that you wanna know, or can I leave now?"

Sam opened his mouth as though he was going to say something but he'd thought twice about whatever it had been and he closed it again. She shot him a knowing look, seeming to take it as a yes, before she pushed herself to her feet. Both Sam and Dean visibly tensed at the movement, taking her slightly by surprise, they looked like they were expecting her to bolt to the front door and make some dramatic escape attempt. She'd noticed that they always seemed to be on edge, whether that was just around her or in general she wasn't sure, but no matter what, they always seemed prepared for something to attack them.

"Relax." she said, holding up her hands in surrender before they had a chance to argue with her. "Just going for a cigarette." she said lightly, rolling her eyes to herself as she turned back to the door.

Sam sighed as he watched her go, giving a small shake of his head as she disappeared from sight. He looked to Dean who seemed as clueless as he did, the same concern free expression on his face that he'd worn earlier, and Sam didn't understand it. He couldn't understand how he seemed to think it was all so normal, or how fast he seemed to accept what had happened when he barely had any answers at all. There was a part of him that knew Dean was covering up much more emotion than he wanted to let on. Sam knew how Dean had felt about her, he knew how much she had meant to him, and how much of an impact her death had taken on him. There was an obvious fear in him when he thought about what could have happened to her, and despite how hard he tried to play it off and push it down, Sam could see how desperately he wanted answers.

The whole situation unnerved him more than he'd ever admit to anyone.

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><p><em>Ahhh, so a little more 'Roxy' for you in this chapter. And Sam and Dean obviously getting more and more concerned with what is going on, even if Dean doesn't want to show it. Next chapter, a lot more of an insight into what happened to her the night she 'died', and more of her with Sam and Dean. <em>

_Thank you so much for reading, I hope you liked this chapter, and don't forget to leave a review and let me know what you thought! ;) Have a great weeked! See you Friday for the next update! _


	6. Nothing And Everything All At Once

_Thank you so much for the reviews and for reading the last chapter, the support means so much! I'm always so grateful to hear from you all! :)_

_Hope you enjoy this chapter, it's a little longer than the last few but I got a bit carried away with a certain part of it!_

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><p><span><strong>Saving Grace<strong>

**Chapter Six: Nothing And Everything All At Once**

Roxy wasn't someone who had ever been known to listen in on anyone's conversations, mostly she just didn't care enough to bother about what was happening in everyone else's personal lives, but as she came back into the house she couldn't help but overhear Sam and Dean talking in the kitchen. She paused in the doorway, in clear sight of both of them should they turn around, and listened. The two of them seemed to be in the middle of a serious discussion between themselves, their voices were noticeably hushed as though they wanted to ensure that she wouldn't hear, which only pushed her curiosity further. Normally she would've made her presence known, in any other situation she wouldn't have even thought about listening in, but she figured that maybe it was going to be the only source of genuine answers from the two of them.

"Dean," Sam had his head rested in his hands, he sounded more than just aggravated, his patience was clearly thin. "You've seen her police file, and that's only the stuff that she's been caught for." he snapped, sitting up straighter to look at him. "Who knows what else she's done."

Roxy frowned, the fact that they had even seen her police file in the first place was suspicious enough. They didn't come across as police officers, especially after their failed attempt at pretending to be FBI, and she was pretty sure that what they were doing with her was way out of any cop's jurisdiction. A dozen different scenarios hit her at once, with all the different and increasingly worse possibilities of who they could really be jumping to mind; for all she knew they really could be cops, they could have been feds or private investigators, criminals, assassins, people looking for revenge, how the hell was she supposed to know? They didn't seem all that keen on telling her the truth about who they were, and she wasn't all that sure that she really wanted to know. She was starting to think that the faster she got out of there the better, but something told her that she wouldn't get too far before they managed to catch up with her. She had a feeling that, should she try to run, they would be on her ass before she could even make it out of town. And any attempt at escape, even if it was failed, may only spur their anger. For the time being, at least, she seemed to be on their good side. And, however calm they seemed to be, the smarter side of her told her that she didn't want to be on the wrong side of either of them. Hadn't Dean pulled a gun on her the previous night and threatened to shoot her should she try to run? She had to ask herself, was it really worth trying when she knew she wouldn't make it?

But then again, her stoicism could only hold out for so long. Sooner or later she was going to have to face up to what was really going on around her. She couldn't run from the truth and pretend that everything was okay forever.

"Yes, Sam, I've seen it." Dean countered, exasperated. He didn't sound to be remotely concerned about it, which only seemed to be riling Sam up further. "I don't know why you're getting so worked up about it. So she's done a little B and E in her time, who the hell hasn't?"

Sam shook his head, not looking satisfied with Dean's response. "We need to talk to her." he muttered, pulling a hand down his face and sitting back.

Dean just scoffed. "And what exactly are we supposed to say, huh?" he retorted. "She clearly isn't stupid, Sam. It's not like we can just trick her into telling us anything, and there is no way in hell that we can ask her anything even close to that area without sounding like we're a couple of insane stalkers. I mean, come on, think how it sounds." She narrowed her eyes, curious as to what 'area' they had been talking about.

Sam gave a long sigh. "I don't care anymore, Dean." he said in defeat, his reply blunt, not leaving much room for an argument. "Do you have a better suggestion?" he went on, his tone fast turning defensive, as though he was being deadly serious about whatever Dean seemed so opposed to asking her. "Because I'm getting pretty damn curious here. I wanna know what happened. I wanna know why she's like that."

"And you think I don't?" Dean's calmness finally broke, his tone harsh in an attempt to get through to his brother. He sat back in his seat and calmed his voice, giving a small shrug. "Look, Sam, she already thinks we're a couple of psychopaths, it's not like she's gonna want to sit down and just tell us every little detail of her life, is it?"

Sam opened and closed his mouth, he looked to be genuinely lost for an answer, like he was biting back frustration that was quickly rising in him. "We need to know who we're dealing with here, Dean." he argued. "Suppose she knows something."

Dean narrowed his eyes at him, he now looked to be pissed at his brother. "Who we're dealing with?" he repeated, incredulous. "Sam, we know damn well who we're dealing with, she's our—"

"Dean." Sam cut him off sharply. Dean stopped and followed Sam's eyes to where she stood leaning against the door frame behind them, her eyebrows raised at them inquisitively.

"You guys carry on," she quipped. "Don't let me stop you."

Roxy knew then without asking that they knew something she didn't, they knew something about her that they didn't want to let on. For a moment, she thought maybe they knew who she really was, or they knew something that she had done, she could tell by the way they spoke about her that they definitely had something on her. They seemed to think that there was something serious about her—especially Sam—and she wasn't all that sure about what they could have been talking about. A dark, disturbing thought crossed her mind—maybe they knew more about her than she knew about herself.

Sam and Dean just looked at her as she stepped further into the room. "You know," she began, she didn't sound angry, or even bothered that she had been standing there listening to them have a conversation about her behind her back. "If you wanted to know the truth, if you wanted to know something about me, you should have just asked." She gave a small shrug and smiled at them. "Haven't you noticed yet, I have nothing to hide."

Dean narrowed his eyes at her a little, looking from her to Sam and back again. "Alright, then tell us," he challenged her. "What happened to you?"

She cleared her throat and looked down, thinking over her answer for a few seconds before she faced him again. "Depends," She tilted her head to the side and smirked. "What do you think you know?"

Sam and Dean exchanged a look, seeming to come to the consensus that neither knew where to start with her. Dean looked back to her as he thought it all over. What was the point in sugarcoating it? "Your real name isn't Roxy, is it?" he stated simply, looking as though he already knew the answer. "You don't know who you are, at least not the first sixteen or so years of your life."

He could see by the look on her face, she hadn't been expecting him to say that. He got the feeling that she'd expected them to think they knew something big about her that would turn out to be nothing, but she looked genuinely taken aback by his comment. For the first time since they had met her again she looked speechless, she looked confused, and possibly even worried. There was something in her eyes that let on she knew what they were talking about, and the fact that they knew it concerned her. But she didn't look like she was willing to admit anything to them. She looked torn between talking and denying everything.

"What's your earliest memory?" Sam pressed curiously as she still refused to answer Dean, she didn't look like she knew what to say to either of them.

All of her life she had wondered if she would ever meet someone who would ask her that question, someone who may have answers to the hundreds of questions she wasn't sure about, and they were sitting right in front of her. The two strange guys who had shown up at her work, the ones who had insisted she went with them with no explanation, the ones who refused to let her out of their sight for more than ten minutes yet threatened no harm; they were the ones who could have the answers she had wanted for so long. She had always wondered whether someone would recognise her as someone other than Roxy, the girl she was pretending to be, because she had no idea who the real her was. There was a darkness throughout a chunk of her life, and they might be the ones to shine a light over it.

She suddenly seemed to take the situation a lot more seriously, all her jokes and wisecracks subsided as she moved to sit back down in the empty seat opposite them at the table, her eyes never lifting to them, and sighed.

"The first thing I ever remember doing was waking up in some hospital..."

* * *

><p><em>January 1997 — Marshall, Wisconsin<em>

Waking up was something that everyone did. They did it every single day from when they were born until the day that they died. It took no skill, it wasn't something that anyone had to learn, it just happened, whether they wanted it to or not. Sometimes people would wake up feeling safe, feeling loved, like they belonged somewhere, thinking that they had all the answers and that everything in their own little world was okay, and then there were the opposite; there were people who would wake up confused and disoriented, who wouldn't remember anything that had happened to them; sometimes it was brought on by drinking too much, sometimes even amnesia, and sometimes it was much, much worse, when there were no answers at all.

It was a Thursday afternoon in the middle of January, the rain still poured down from the dark clouds above in the sky, yet there was still a brightness that shone through the window to the small hospital room. The young girl there opened her eyes to the blurred room around her. It was bright, the light only intensifying the dull whiteness of the walls and ceiling. She jumped a little at the strange and unfamiliar surroundings, sitting up and looking around the room quickly. It was empty apart from herself, with no indication that there had ever been anyone else there with her. She took a deep, calming breath and pushed the hair from her face with a shaking hand, straightening up a little.

There was no memory in her head to remind her of how she had gotten there, nothing to indicate what had happened to her or why she would be in a hospital at all, everything was completely blank. She tried to think where she was, or to where she had been, who she had been with, but nothing came back to her. She couldn't think of anything. It was as though she couldn't manage to pull any kind of logical thought to her head, and something about that scared her. She felt trapped, clueless and alone.

For a second all the worst possible thoughts jumped to her head; she'd seen enough movies to know that waking up to white walls was never a good thing. For all she knew she was nuts, maybe she had done something crazy, maybe she had hurt someone, or worse. She didn't know what she'd done, but the thought scared her. And then she thought, maybe someone had hurt her. She didn't know, she didn't want to think about it. She shook the harrowing thoughts from her head as her eyes focused on the door, it didn't look to have a lock on it.

Something stopped in her chest at the sound of the handle being gripped at the other side, she could hear voices, unclear through the door, like someone was finishing up their conversation before they entered. She froze as the handle moved, completely tense as she waited, her hands subconsciously balled into fists. It slowly opened, like whoever it was had expected her to be sleeping, to reveal a nurse. She looked to be in her fifties, her brown hair pulled back and a small, sympathetic frown set on her face. She looked kind, something about her stance calmed her a little. She didn't appear a threat, or dangerous.

The nurse instantly allowed a small smile to spread across her face when she noticed that she was awake. There was a solace and understanding about it, an attempt to lessen the fear and keep the situation calm. "Hey, angel." she said sweetly, her voice was soft and cheerful. "Didn't expect you to wake up just yet." she added quietly as she closed the door quietly behind herself.

The girl just looked at her, she didn't look like she could manage to think up an answer, her mouth opened and closed a couple of times but no words left. In the twenty-five years that she had worked as a nurse she had seen a lot of people come and go; she had seen innocent and harmless people and she had seen cruel and violent people, some of which had genuinely intrigued her and some who had just been a standard part of her job. But this girl had interested her since the moment she had been brought in. She had watched over her sleeping for the past few days, just waiting for her to wake up and tell them what had happened to her, to make some sense of the more than peculiar situation.

She didn't look that old, sixteen or seventeen at the oldest. Now that she had woken up she noticed her eyes for the first time, bright green, filled with an innocence and shining with fear. Her hair was long and brown, with coloured streaks of pink and blue running through it, something that had only interested her more. One of the things she had enjoyed the most about her job was meeting people who had stories, people who had led an interesting life, and the girl in front of her looked like she had a character, something more than just a normal teenager. She had thought over the past few days about what could have happened to her, about what her story could be. The streaks in her hair and the piercing in her nose could all have been a rebellious sign that maybe she was someone who had fallen in with a bad crowd and done something stupid. Or maybe the innocence and fearful look in her face could have shown that something horrible had happened to her and she had somehow managed to escape it. She wondered if the girl had a family, friends, a job, a home, whether she had people who were worried about where she was.

"How are you feeling?" she asked her, her voice remaining gentle, as she took a seat in the chair beside her bed and looked over her slowly. There didn't appear to be any serious physical damage done to her, yet she had noticed quite a number of past scars and bruises that had only made her more curious about where she had come from.

The girl blinked, seeming a little confused by the question at first. She looked to be thinking her answer over seriously. "Um, I'm great, I guess." She shrugged. Nothing felt wrong, nothing felt broken or out of place, there was no pain that she could feel, she assumed that she was fine. "What's going on?"

The nurse's smile faltered for a second, she had been hoping that she had known that. "Oh, don't you remember anything?" she coaxed. "You were brought here on Saturday night, you were unconscious."

She narrowed her eyes a little as though contemplating it. "Saturday." She nodded slowly. "And today is..."

"Today's Thursday." The nurse smiled. "What's your name, sweetheart?"

The girl opened and closed her mouth, that was something that was just supposed to come natural, it was something that everyone was supposed to just know, regardless of anything else, everyone was supposed to know their own name at least. It wasn't something that was supposed to require thinking. "I don't," She stopped, the frown deepening on her face. "I don't know." she whispered, the fear showing itself clearly in her voice. "I don't remember."

"You don't remember?" The nurse pressed curiously, looking over her again slowly. There had been no sign at all of any head injury or anything that could have caused some kind of memory loss, physically she had appeared to be completely healthy. She frowned, maybe it was her mental state that they needed to be looking at. "Do you remember where you're from? Where you've been? Your Mom and Dad? Any friends you've been with recently?" she pushed, trying to get something from her. "Absolutely anything at all?"

The girl just shook her head again. "I don't remember anything." she said, barely loud enough for either of them to hear. "I don't—" She paused as the panic seemed to finally hit her, the colour drained from her face, she looked terrified. "What the hell happened to me?" she pressed, finding her voice again. "Please," she practically begged, even though deep down she knew the woman had no answers. "Help me."

"Hey, it's okay." The nurse took a hold of her hand in an attempt to calm her down. "It's okay, don't worry. We'll figure out what happened to you." she said softly, the smile holding on her face despite the obvious concern. "We will help you, I promise, you're going to be just fine." she assured.

It was as though her entire life had just gone from her head. She tried so hard, to the point that it hurt, to search every hidden corner of her mind to try and figure out who she was, but nothing at all came back to her. It was all just gone, and she couldn't comprehend why. There were no memories there at all, there were no hints or clues, everything had just been left in complete darkness. She felt lost and overwhelmed, she just wanted to understand what had happened to her. She just wanted answers. She needed to know who she was, where she was, where she had come from, and she couldn't pull the thoughts to her mind.

"What happened to me?" she urged, looking the nurse straight in the face, searching for answers. "How did I get here?"

The nurse cleared her throat, unsure of how much it was suitable to tell her, but the look in her eyes, the desperation and pleading look for answers was something that she couldn't ignore. She truly did want to help her, and at that point the only way that she could think to do so was to tell her everything that she knew in the hope that maybe it would help to jog her memory.

"You were brought here at about half past nine on Saturday night, by a man. He said that he'd found you unconscious in the street. We don't know who he was, he left before we had the chance to ask him anything more." she explained softly, trying to be understanding with her. "You seem completely fine, there's no sign of any physical damage to you. The only thing that concerned us at the time you were brought in was that you had a lot of blood on you."

The girl's face fell. "I what?"

"Now, this is the part which confused us, and take it how you will, but it's strange. I've worked here for a long time and I've never seen anything like it." She narrowed her eyes curiously. "When you came in there was a lot of blood covering your stomach, and there was a small tear in your jacket which went right through to your shirt, so at first we thought that you'd been stabbed. Except when we looked there was nothing there at all, no indication that there ever had been." She paused and gave a small shake of her head. "Other than that you were just sleeping, we couldn't find anything at all wrong."

The girl stared down at her lap, unsure of how to respond to anything that she had been told. Confused didn't even begin to cover how she felt, she didn't know where to start. All she wanted to do was leave, to find out who she was and then get the hell away from that hospital and never look back. She wanted to know if she had a family, a Mom and Dad who were freaking out about where she was, a sister who was scared what had happened to her, a brother who was climbing the walls for answers, or maybe she didn't have a family, maybe she was on her own, she didn't know.

As she thought it though and calmed down the initial fear softened and seemed to subside. "I just wanna leave." she whispered, looking back to the nurse for help.

The woman's smile completely faded at her words. "Honey, you aren't gonna be able to go anywhere until the police have spoken with you." she said apologetically, like she really did feel for her. "We can't just let you leave without proof that you're old enough and able to take care of yourself. We need to get your doctor to make sure that everything's fine before we can release you." The girl didn't say anything, just sat there and refused to look at her, like she was lost for words and biting back the emotion threatening to spill. "I'll tell you what, I'll go and get your doctor and we'll see if we can't figure out who you are, okay?" She smiled again before getting to her feet and heading out of the door, closing it softly behind herself.

There was no way she could handle sitting through all of that. She couldn't take another talk like that with a doctor, with the police, with anybody. She felt suffocated, isolated and helpless. And she needed out. She needed to find her own way, she couldn't sit in a hospital for the rest of her life and become dependent on other people to take care of her, she didn't want to. There was a dark thought in the back of her mind, something that told her she couldn't stay there, like an instinct told her to just run, to get away from it all.

She climbed from the bed and crossed the room to where some clothes, she presumed hers, lay folded on the chair in the corner. They didn't look to be particularly clean, but she wasn't about to be picky. She quickly changed into the sweatpants and trainers, figuring maybe she had been out jogging at the time of whatever had happened to her, before she pulled her shirt over her head. As she did she noticed something else; a tattoo. It was at the front of her left ribs, just beneath her bra, four lines of writing. It wasn't English, she wasn't sure what language it was, she had never seen it before, yet she didn't wait around to try and figure it out. She dropped the hospital gown to the bed and pulled her own t-shirt over her head, pausing for a moment at the blood staining the front of it. The nurse had been right, there was a small rip in the middle of the blood which looked like nothing but a stab wound, her stomach turned a little at the thought. She pulled on her jacket and turned to the window, it was way too high to jump, she was going to have to go the other way.

Her first thought as she opened the door was to sneak out, to stay out of sight and try to be as inconspicuous as she could, but that would only draw more attention to herself. People didn't notice those who knew where they were going, those who walked like they had some kind of direction, people were only going to wonder why someone was acting so shifty in a hospital, so she walked out of the room like she knew exactly where she was heading, her eyes scanning the various signs for one that said exit. Once she had seen one she headed towards the waiting room where she saw the double doors at the opposite side of the room. She walked fast and kept her head down but didn't manage to go unnoticed by the nurse who had been talking to her standing at the reception desk in deep conversation with a doctor. They both stopped and looked at each other for a moment before she broke into a run for the doors. She sprinted through them and down the stairs, unsure of whether or not she was even being followed, until she was certain that she wasn't. She ran outside into the pouring rain and looked around helplessly.

And then it all hit her as she chose a random direction and started walking; she was on her own with no money, no family, no house, no job, no support, no memories and no life.

* * *

><p>"And that's it." She gave a small shrug. "Then I ran, started a life for myself and I was fine." There was no emotion in her voice as she spoke about what had happened to her, the same calm and flat tone holding her through the entire story. "But I don't remember anything before I woke up in that hospital, I never remembered. I don't know a thing about my life before then, I mean, I don't what my real name is, where I really come from, my family, what happened to me, you know I don't even know how old I am, nothing."<p>

A small sigh escaped her as she thought back. They weren't necessarily bad memories, yet she tried not to think about them as often as she did because, in her mind, they were all just unanswered questions swirling around there that she had never expected she would find an explanation to. They were the thoughts that would keep her up at night, never letting her brain switch off, the frustrating thoughts that she had never been able to completely silence.

"All I know is that they were about to get the cops involved and try to figure out what had happened to me, and back then I wasn't all that sure that I even wanted to know. They wanted to know why I was like that, why I couldn't remember. But I just had this feeling, somewhere in the back of my head, that maybe it wasn't such a good idea. So I bailed. And then I just kinda went from there." she finished simply, finally looking between them for the first time since she had started talking, searching their faces for some kind of a response.

Dean looked completely horrified, he was staring at her like he was hanging onto her every word, like it was the most interesting thing he had ever listened to. There was a deep curiosity in his face, his eyes searching her for more of an answer. She noticed his jaw was tightly clenched, his fists balled on the table in front of him, he looking downright angry. Sam just frowned to himself while he seemed to think through everything that she had said, there was no clear emotion shown from him.

"And, are you sure they didn't know who the guy was that brought you there?" Dean pressed, his voice strained, like he really didn't want to ask. There was an impatience in his words, like he wouldn't be satisfied without a real answer.

She contemplated asking him why he suddenly seemed to look so defensive but thought against it, shaking her head slowly. "No, I told you, he bailed before they had a chance to ask him anything. All he said was that he'd found me like that, unconscious and covered in blood." she muttered. "But I remember seeing that shirt for the first time, and all the blood and the tear in the middle, and it still doesn't make sense to me. It honest to god looked as though someone had stabbed me, I just—" She stopped and shook her head. "There was nothing there. And I've always wondered about whose blood it was, or if I'd hurt someone, you know?"

Sam noticed that Dean's face seemed to have turned hard at the mention of her being stabbed. There was a darkness that passed through him, like anger, but mixed with a pain that he appeared to have long since pushed down and covered up. It was a look that he hadn't seen on Dean's face in a long time. He hadn't thought about it for a while, he'd never really wanted to, but he suddenly remembered that Dean had watched her being stabbed. He had watched it happen right in front of him, unable to stop any of it, and he had carried it around with him every day for the rest of his life. He had seen the terror in her eyes, the fear in her face, and he had watched her die.

He looked back to her and raised his eyebrows, he still wasn't completely convinced. "So, you're telling me that you were on your own, no idea who you were, no money, nothing, and you managed to somehow end up working as a stripper in Wisconsin?" he pressed curiously, partly in an attempt to steer the conversation away from what had happened that night they had thought she'd died. "How does that work?"

Roxy shrugged it off like it hadn't been a big deal, as though it didn't phase her. "You do what you've gotta do to get by, I guess." she muttered. "I went from that hospital and I found myself a job, you know, on the terms that I looked a little more presentable when I showed up for work than I did when I'd walked in," She smirked. "And I convinced the guy to pay me enough money upfront for me to get a motel. I mean, between you and me I think the guy was majorly shifty, the bar was a complete dive, nothing that went on there was even remotely legal. But he was nice, he got me a fake I.D saying that I was twenty-one, he watched my back. So I worked there and lived in a motel room for a while, it was fine." She shrugged. "And then after about a year I met this girl, Rachel, and she got me a job where she worked, and it was pretty good money. So I moved into her place for a while until I saved up enough money to get my apartment, and that was it. I worked there full time for about seven or eight years, and I was fine. Now I just work weekends."

"And, uh, what do you the other five days of the week?" Dean asked innocently, like his brain wasn't in the one place they all knew it was. "You're not, I mean, you know..." he trailed off and shrugged as if to tell her to work out his meaning herself.

Roxy just laughed. "No, Dean, I'm not a hooker, nor have I ever been a hooker." she laughed. "I'll have you know, I'm a qualified masseuse."

His eyebrows shot up, clearly it had been the last thing he had expected her to say. "You're a what?" he smirked.

She nodded. "Oh yeah," she grinned. "Magic hands."

Dean cocked an eyebrow. "Alright, so if you're a masseuse, why are you still shaking your ass on a pole?"

She shrugged. "It's my weekend job," she said simply. "Gotta pay the bills somehow, right?" she smirked. "Hey, do you really think at my age I wanna be stripping like that every night of the week? I'm not as young as I was."

"Right, I hear that." A small smirk played across Dean's face as he raised his eyebrows curiously at her. "So, uh, where did Roxy Coleman come from?"

She laughed a little, shaking her head to herself. "I dunno," she answered honestly. "First name that popped into my head at the time, I guess." She shrugged.

Sam sighed. "You know, I gotta ask, what's with your record?" he suddenly spoke up, like he'd been waiting to ask since he had seen it and he was just tired of waiting. "There's a lot of stuff on there, Roxy. It's not stuff that people who have normal, happy lives do."

"Look, I'm the first to admit I've done some pretty stupid stuff in my time, Sam. I was on drugs, I had some bad influences around me, and yeah, sometimes I just did stuff because I wasn't thinking anything through." She smiled slightly at him. "You know, I'm not someone that thinks stuff through, I just do it. And that's gotten me into trouble in the past and it might have earned me a record, but it's done me a lot of good too. There's really nothing to it."

"And that's all it is?" Sam remained skeptical. "Really?"

Roxy nodded briefly. "Yeah, that's all it is." she said flatly, tilting her head to the side. "Why? Were you expecting something a little more exciting, is that it? You want me to tell you I'm some kind of criminal mastermind? That I'm in a gang or something?" Sam sighed in defeat, saying nothing else.

Dean shook his head slowly. "Everything you've done, it's a lot of responsibility, for a kid." he said quietly, looking over her slowly. He honestly understood why, after looking after herself from the age of sixteen, having the amount of responsibility she had, why she might have acted out, looking for some kind of an escape from it. He understood why she seemed to be so easy-going about everything, because she had obviously seen and done things before that had been just as strange as being practically kidnapped by two guys, her police record alone proved that.

Roxy chuckled, nodding to herself. "Yeah," She gave him a look, something that resembled a mixture of amusement and disbelief. "I wasn't completely hopeless, you know. I might've been a kid but I wasn't stupid." She leaned forwards slightly, the smile fading. "Actually it was kinda weird. I mean, I don't know what happened to me or anything, no clue, but it was like I knew everything except myself."

Dean frowned, looking to Sam whose expression matched his own, neither following at all. "What does that mean?" he pushed.

"Well," She paused and thought it through for a few seconds, working out the best way to explain it. "Like, the first time that I remember getting into a car, when I planned on learning to drive, I could just drive, but I don't remember ever learning. And somehow I just knew how to fix up the engine. I knew how to fight properly, and I don't know how. It was just my own life that I couldn't remember, my friends or family or whatever. Anything that was personal was just gone." She sighed in defeat. "I could remember everything, except me. I could quote every classic horror movie out there for god's sake, I knew literally everything anyone could ever know about classic rock, you know, somehow I could speak latin... Something about that didn't feel like just typical amnesia to me."

Sam looked over her slowly, she didn't appear to be lying, she didn't seem to care all that much either way, he just couldn't figure her out. There was something about her that was just different from other people and it didn't add up. Whoever she was, whatever had happened to her, whatever kind of a life she had been living, however outgoing she was, there was no way that anyone could just be so cool about what had happened to her, it just didn't happen. He couldn't help but wonder what she would have done if they had turned out to be a couple of psychopaths, how far her stoicism would take her. He somehow got the impression a death threat to her would've been met with a couple of sarcastic one liners and a fight until one of them was dead, something like Dean.

"You know, this has been bugging me and bugging me," He paused for a second, both her and Dean looking up to face him, as he thought his words over carefully. "You, uh, you didn't seem to have much of a problem just getting into a car with two complete strangers. In fact once we'd left that club, you were more than cooperative."

Roxy gave a short, humorless laugh. "Yeah, and the gun that I had pointed to my chest did absolutely nothing to persuade me." she countered. Neither Sam or Dean chose to answer her. "You say it like you're disappointed," she muttered, raising her eyebrows. "What would you rather I came kicking and screaming, just for the dramatic effect? You were obviously going to bring me here whether I cooperated with you or not, what was the point in making it difficult?"

Sam shook his head at her. "Nah, you don't seem the type to be afraid to stand up to a gun. If you didn't want to come here you would've put up a fight." he said knowingly, like he finally had one thing about her figured.

A smirk played on her face. "Well, what can I say? Maybe I'm just outgoing, or maybe I'm suicidally reckless," she quipped. "Who can tell?"

"Or you had nothing worth fighting to stay for." Dean cut in, because he knew. He recognised the look in her eyes, whether she wanted them to see it or not. Hell, she probably didn't even know it was there. But he could see right through it all. She was running. The comment appeared to touch a nerve. He and Dean exchanged a look, clearly neither of them were buying it. "Why aren't you afraid of us, Roxy?" Dean asked seriously, after finally finding his voice again.

She seemed to pick up that they weren't about to quit asking until one of them had an answer, Dean looked determined on finding out something. She sat back in her seat, folding her arms over her chest, and smiled a little. "Because you're not going to hurt me." she said, like she was already so confident about it.

Dean raised his eyebrows questioningly, a little taken aback. "You seem pretty sure of that." he replied simply, as though he was asking for an explanation at the same time.

"Well, I'm pretty sure that last night I fell asleep in your car," she began simply. Both Sam and Dean frowned at her, neither seeming to know where she was going with it. "And then the next thing I know I wake up in a bed, with a blanket over me, so one of you must have put me there. You kidnap me, yet you let me sit in the backseat of your car with my cellphone in my hand and the doors unlocked. Since I've been here neither of you have even indicated a threat, in fact you've made more of an attempt to not look like a threat. Now call me crazy but that's not the kind of behaviour I'd expect from people with murderous intentions towards me." She smirked at them, like she knew she had them beat.

Dean couldn't help but smile a little at the familiar attitude, he could imagine Haley coming with the exact same response. "Wow." He chuckled. "Hadn't thought about that one."

Sam frowned as his phone rang from his pocket. He pulled it out and glanced down at the caller I.D, turning to Dean. "It's one of Dad's friends." he muttered to him. "I called to see if he'd heard of anything like, you know, before..." he trailed off. Dean just nodded at him. It was no secret that Sam had called every single contact he'd found in Dad's journal, hoping that at least one of them had heard of something like what had happened to Haley before. That maybe someone could shed some light onto the situation and give them an idea about what could have caused her to forget sixteen years of her life. He headed out of the room, closing the kitchen door behind himself and leaving her and Dean alone.

Roxy looked up at him as the door closed, her eyes meeting his for the first time. He was looking at her the same way he had been in the club the previous night. There was an emotion in it that she couldn't quite put her finger on. It looked like a mixture of sadness and remorse, or even pain. It looked as though the situation upset him, or even hurt him to think about. Behind the front that he was quite clearly putting up, after the stoicism and defensive act, there was something about him that just seemed defeated and confused.

"Why do you keep staring at me like that?" she asked him. She didn't sound like it bothered her, she just sounded curious.

Dean blinked, he hadn't even realised that he'd been looking at her. But it was like the longer he looked at her the more of Haley he saw, he could see the young her again, the her that he had once been inseparable with. He looked down at the table and shook his head slowly. "Nothing, it's just—" He stopped, giving a short shrug, fumbling for an excuse. "You, uh, you just look like someone that I used to know, it's nothing." He looked back to her and managed an unconvincing smile. "It's no big deal."

She narrowed her eyes at him, only seeming to become more suspicious. "Do you know something?" She asked, her voice low and serious. "About me? Do you know who I am?"

Dean thought about it. A part of him just wanted to be honest and tell her everything, about their lives, who she really was, who she had once been, maybe in some hope that it could make her remember, that it would snap her back into reality where she would instantly recognise them, when she would remember the person she really was, but he thought better of it. There was no way to explain something like that to anyone, no matter who they were. There was a good chance that telling her the truth wouldn't change anything, and he wasn't about to risk her leaving.

"No," He shook his head slowly. "No, I don't know anything." he muttered, almost remorsefully. He hated lying to her, he always had, and now he was doing it right to her face.

"Hm." Was the only response she gave, seeming to let it go.

There was something that told her he wasn't being completely truthful, that he knew something more about her than he was letting on. She got the impression that both of them knew something, yet they didn't seem willing to tell her what it was. They seemed to be hiding something between them in the silent conversations they had, where they seemed to look at each other and come to an agreement without the use of words. She wasn't quite sure what it was about them but she intended to find out.

"Must be hard," Dean suddenly commented, drawing her back from her thoughts. "You know, not knowing anything about yourself."

Roxy shrugged. "Yeah, sometimes, I guess..." she trailed off, thinking it over. "I mean sometimes I think that it might be best that I don't remember. For all I know I could've been some horrible, bad person, involved with anything, kids don't just wake up in hospitals covered in blood without their memories, Dean. Something bad must've gone down there, and I just don't know what."

Dean sighed, all he wanted to do was tell her, to put her mind at rest, but he knew that he couldn't. "You weren't a bad person, Roxy." he said simply. "I don't think you have it in you."

She looked up at him and gave a small smile, she could see him trying to make her feel better. "Thanks." she muttered. "Listen, uh, since you're apparently not letting me go, do you mind if I have a shower?"

Dean nodded. "Sure, bathroom's at the top of the stairs." he said, breathing out a long sigh as he watched her leave the room.

There weren't a lot of things that could take him by such surprise, but she was definitely one of them. He wasn't sure anymore on whether or not Roxy was even a different person to Haley—she had the same cocky and witty attitude that he remembered in Haley, the same facial expressions, the same sprightly manner, the same likeable and engaging characteristics—she just seemed to have more of an edge to her now, and he wasn't so sure that meant she'd changed, a part of him thought it was just his little sister who had grown up. None of it worked out in his head, he couldn't understand why she remembered everything but herself, something about that struck him as odd. He agreed with her, he didn't believe that it had been amnesia either, he had a sneaking feeling that something supernatural had been involved, maybe the thing that he had watched stab her or something else, and he had an apprehension that Castiel had known something about it. If that were the case, he knew it couldn't have been anything good.

But having her back there made him remember how much he had truly missed her, it brought back so many memories, good and bad, that he had long since locked away and refused to let himself think of. He just wanted her back. He wanted the her who knew them, the one who could read him and Sam like a book, the one who was always by their sides no matter what, the one who gave him hope, because that was what he needed. He wasn't sure about how long he was going to be able to remain so calm with the situation, or how much longer he was going to be able to hold it all together before he snapped. There was an overwhelming urge to tell her everything and anything that he could to make her remember them, just so that he could talk to her as the girl he knew, not like she was a stranger. Her without a memory was like having everything and nothing at the same time. He had back the one thing that he felt had been missing for so long, and she wasn't who he needed her to be.

He needed to do something, and he just didn't know what.

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><p><em>Thank you so much for reading, I know it was a longer chapter!<em>

_So, this chapter, a little more of how Haley became Roxy, you will eventually find out why she woke up the way she did. There are some major broments coming up, or for anyone who watched the 200th episode, the 'Boy Melodrama' moments, and a lot of Dean/Haley and Sam/Haley parts. As well as some more Castiel._

_Next chapter is definitely an important one, without giving too much away for it I'll just tell you that something big will happen, and soon after that there's going to be a certain character back in the game, if you know what I mean ;-)_

_I keep saying, please don't think I'm skipping over anything or not planning to give you answers, I am! Everything will come out eventually, some things sooner than others!_

_Anyway, I hope you liked_ _this chapter and don't forget to leave a review._

_Next update will be Friday! :-)_


	7. Taking Chances

_As always I want to start by saying that you for all of your amazing support with this story! Thank you for reading, reviewing, favouriting and following! :) _

_Hope you enjoy this chapter!_

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><p><span><strong>Saving Grace<strong>

**Chapter Seven: Taking Chances**

Sam typed furiously at his laptop, his fingers never pausing or slowing down as he wrote out yet another email to yet another possible source of information. Usually their search for help stopped once they had gotten a hold of either Castiel or Bobby, but, with one acting shifty and the other as clueless as them, they were still stumped. He'd be lying if he said that he wasn't genuinely concerned about what she had told them, he'd looked everywhere for answers. He'd looked for creatures that liked to wipe away memories, he'd looked through years of news articles to find something even remotely similar, he'd called every hunter he could name in the hope that one of them may have been able to shed a little light onto the confusing situation, but nothing. There were still no answers, no explanation, and there remained none in sight. Honestly, he was running out of places to look.

He glanced over towards the doorway at the sound of familiar and heavy footsteps, growing gradually louder as his brother descended down the stairs. His attention returned to his laptop almost as soon as it had left it, once his eyes had fallen to Dean. The elder Winchester shot him a look as he once again crossed the room to the refrigerator and pulled out a beer for himself, waving one in Sam's direction to be met only with a small shake of the head. He slammed the fridge door closed and leaned against it, popping the cap off his own beer. He moved forwards and leaned against the edge of the table, peering over the top of Sam's laptop to see what he had been doing as he did, giving a sigh.

"Sammy, give it up, man." muttered Dean, looking his younger brother up and down, perturbed. He never stopped, he just didn't give up until found an answer, and Dean wasn't so sure that they were going to find one this time, especially not on the internet.

Sam huffed a breath, impatient, he still couldn't comprehend how Dean seemed to be so calm. "Give it up?" he repeated incredulously. "Dean, you might not want to know, but I wanna find out what happened to my sister. You heard her, something has _done _that to her. There was something there with her that night and after all these years we _still _haven't found it. In fact, when was the last time we even looked?"

"When was the last time we had a lead?" countered Dean, his tone turned angry. Bringing up Haley with him was a more than touchy subject, he never talked about her, ever. "We can't pull information from thin air, there's nowhere else we can look." He shook his head slowly. "This is _exactly _what happened with Dad, he was just the same. You both think you can find revenge on everything in this world that crosses you, and you don't stop until it kills you."

Dean had always been the same, even back when they had been looking for the thing that had killed their Mom. He had always been the sensible one in that area, he had always been the one to talk down him or Dad when they became blinded by their own revenge, when they became so enthralled with wanting to kill something that they forgot they were supposed to be keeping themselves alive at the same time. And he was right, there hadn't been a lead on what had happened to their sister in years, no clues, nothing—not since before their Dad had died. And truth was, they'd stopped looking. One thing had led to another, hunts and other things had taken over focus and they had, what Sam had thought, been temporarily sidetracked. He still wanted to find the thing, and he knew more than anything that Dean did. And that if they ever did find whatever it had been, his brother wouldn't hesitate in pulling out his best learned torture skills and going right to work on it. But he was focused on more pressing matters, he was more concerned with her than he was about what had happened to her. And Sam just couldn't always separate them. He found it harder to remain calm and sit with her and talk without the nagging in the back of his head that he wanted answers. Dean had always been the one who had been better at detaching himself from his emotions, or at least at faking it.

Sam sighed, defeated. "Where is she, anyway?" he asked curiously, realising that he hadn't seen either her or Dean in at least a couple of hours, not since Dean had headed out back to work on his car and she had disappeared upstairs to take a shower.

"She went into town, said she wanted to buy some cigarettes or something." shrugged Dean, as though to say that he hadn't really been in a position to argue with her about it.

Sam raised an eyebrow at his brother, looking up at him as though he were crazy. "And you just let her go?" he asked, incredulous, as though it was the stupidest thing he had ever heard in his life. Even he didn't think that Dean was that trusting.

Dean shook his head, frowning. He looked like the thought of Sam considering him to be so careless genuinely offended him. "Relax," he muttered, taking a drink of his beer. "Bobby went with her, he said he'd keep an eye on her."

"Right," Sam nodded slowly, considering it. "And he's going to do what exactly when she turns and runs off in the opposite direction, Dean?"

Dean's eyebrows rose at the unfamiliar attitude. "C'mon, Sam," scoffed Dean. "It's Bobby. I mean, the guy might be in a wheelchair but I don't doubt that he could figure something out. He won't let her bail."

Sam nodded, dubious. "Whatever." he muttered, not really having much more to say on the matter. If Dean said it was fine, he'd just have to accept that it was fine. And if something went wrong, if she got away from them, he wouldn't be the one to take the blame.

Dean cleared his throat, looking down at the beer bottle in his hands, the two of them had barely had a conversation since they had found her, they had either been avoiding the subject of her completely out of fear of what the other would say, or they had been unwilling to talk about it themselves. Either way, the tension still stifled the room and filled the lingering silence between them. He knew they couldn't avoid it forever, and while she was out of the house was probably the best time to have the conversation that he knew was more than likely to escalate into a fight.

"Sam," began Dean, he sounded apprehensive. "You know as well as I do, we can't keep this up forever." he said slowly, watching Sam's expression warily for a reaction.

Sam looked up and frowned at him, his expression remaining completely focused. There wasn't even an indication on his face toward how he was feeling. He could tell that Dean's tone meant they were obviously heading towards the discussion they had both been avoiding. He had wondered to himself which one of them would be the first to crack, who could hold out longer without voicing the thousands of thoughts swimming around their heads in unstoppable circles. It was usually Dean. He had always been the stoic one, who could shoulder anything and never bat an eyelid at his problems. He could push it all down and away and cover it up and make an attempt to pretend like he was fine, but this time seemed different, he was the one to cave first. Usually it would take a considerable amount of pushing to make Dean talk, but he seemed willing to do it this time.

"We can't keep lying to her like this." Dean clarified when Sam said nothing, seeming to get the impression that he hadn't been following him. "She's our sister," he went on, his voice nothing but seriousness. "It isn't fair."

Sam regarded him for a moment, thinking over what he was saying carefully. He only came to the same conclusion that he had done the last fifteen times the thought had occurred to him; there wasn't a way that they could tell her the truth, there was no way that they would be able to make her understand it. She would only think that they were crazy, and they weren't really in a position that could allow them to let her leave. They needed her with them because she didn't know what was out there, and what it would do to her if it were to find her. It seemed too much of a risk to tell her the truth and risk her bailing on them. He wasn't so sure that the risk was worth it.

And after everything she had told them earlier, with what had happened in her past, there was no longer any doubt in his mind that there was something responsible for her losing her memories. There was something out there that had hurt his sister on purpose, something that must have known exactly what they were doing to leave her in such a state. He knew she was their best lead, whether she could help yet or not, he knew they could afford to lose her again. He didn't think he could take that, and he was more than certain that Dean couldn't.

He sighed heavily, almost in frustration of his own thoughts. "Well, what else are we supposed to do?" Sam challenged, closing his laptop slowly. "It's not like she's going to believe us even if we do sit her down and tell her the truth, is it? You said so yourself, she already thinks that we're insane. Telling her that we kill demons isn't going to help."

Dean released a long and exasperated sigh, shaking his head slowly as he rose from where he leaned against the edge of the table. "We don't know that she won't believe us. I mean, after everything that's happened to her, she might accept it." Sam didn't even need to answer him, the uncertainty in Dean's voice was enough for him to know he didn't even believe his own reasoning on that one. "She seems open-minded enough, right? We don't have to tell her everything, but maybe we could tell her enough?"

He hated lying to her, he hated the thought that whether she knew who she really was or not, the two of them were standing there and pretending that everything was okay, even when they knew that it wasn't. They were pretending that they hadn't grown up with her, that she wasn't their sister, that they didn't know every mood and facial expression she had; they were pretending like she was a stranger. She had armies of demons and armies of angels out for her head, she was in so much danger because of her family, and she couldn't even remember who they were. Something about it just didn't sit right with him.

Sam sighed. "And where do we stop?" he asked. "I mean, do we go far enough to tell her we're her brothers? That we know everything about her? That you watched her get stabbed twelve years ago and we haven't seen her since?"

"You know, Sam, the longer that we leave her in the dark, the more likely she is to walk." Dean told him simply. "You can't _seriously_ expect that she's going to sit around here with us forever when, in her mind, she doesn't have a clue who we are."

Sam opened his mouth as though he intended to argue with him, like he had a point that he could make, but realistically he knew that his brother was right on that one. Truthfully, he was amazed that she had stayed with them for the amount of time that she had, especially without kicking up a fuss about it. He would have imagined that anyone else would have made a run for it, or at least tried to make a run for it, but she didn't seem at all concerned about it.

Then again, not everyone was in her place. Maybe she was just curious, thinking that they knew more than they did and refusing to leave until she discovered what that was. Thinking more about it, if he had the amount of questions that she did, and he thought he was in the same house as the only two people he had ever met who seemed as though they could help her find some answers, he wasn't so sure that he would leave either.

"I mean, you said so yourself," continued Dean, obviously oblivious to how deep in thought his brother was. "If you hadn't stopped her earlier, she probably would have just walked out the second that she woke up. Eventually she's gonna get bored and she's gonna leave."

"Well, what do you suggest then?" Sam snapped, clearly becoming aggravated by the entire situation. "Because there is absolutely no way in hell that we are telling her the truth, Dean. She'll be out of here before we even have a chance to tell her what her real name is."

"Yeah," Dean regarded his brother seriously, his green eyes scanning over the stern features of his face, he seemed a little tentative of his next comment. Whatever he was about to say, Sam was pretty sure that Dean wasn't expecting him to go for it. He watched as Dean pushed himself up from the table silently and took a couple of steps away from him, giving a short sigh. "I was thinking about that," he began slowly, turning to face him again. "I mean, maybe it's time we call Cas back." Sam frowned a little, he hadn't been expecting that one. "There might be something he can do, you know, to make her remember."

There it was. That had been the part that he knew Dean hadn't expected him to like the sound of. And he was right. "You serious?" Sam raised his eyebrows at him and also got to his feet, looking his brother straight in the face for an answer, but Dean didn't look phased. "After everything that happened with Cas this morning? You wanna call him back?"

Dean just shrugged, and that was when Sam knew he was getting desperate. He had said so himself, Castiel had been on edge, he had been shifty and he had been covering something. And the only reason he could have to do that was if he knew something bad and he didn't want to share it. That could only have been regarding their sister. And Dean had warned Sam, the moment he had suggested calling him back, that until they were sure he was safe, until they knew for sure what the angel's problem was, he wasn't getting near Haley again. They couldn't risk it.

Dean looked conflicted, but he nodded simply and threw up his arms in frustration. "Yeah, I mean, angels have powers, right?" Sam just narrowed his eyes at him. "So why shouldn't he be able to fix her up?" Dean pressed, beginning to sound a little more wary of himself. "And even if he can't do it himself, he might know another way to help her, because let's face it, Sam, we have no idea what we're doing here anymore. We haven't had a clue since we found her. And it's only a matter of time before we have a bunch of demons, or a bunch of angels, on our asses." His voice turned dark, almost dangerous. "There is no way in hell that I am letting her die over that."

"Dean," sighed Sam, shaking his head slowly. Dean could see that he clearly wasn't going for it. "I don't know...I mean..." he trailed off, not quite sure what his argument was, something about it all just gave him a bad feeling, and he wasn't sure why. Maybe it was instinct, or just that he didn't want to risk it, he wasn't sure.

"Sam. Come on." Dean persisted. He wasn't giving up his case. "It's Haley. We at least have to try. If not for us, then for her."

Sam sighed deeply and shook his head. He knew deep down what his argument was, but he just wasn't sure that Dean was going to see in the same way that he did. Haley and Dean had always been family first, everything else came second in their book. But sometimes, Sam could see that family wasn't the safest thing around, especially theirs, which had been one of the reasons that he had wanted to get away and go to stanford; he had wanted a life away from the danger and the life that he knew was always going to be so hard. He knew that neither Dean or Haley would ever have walked away from the life. But whether it was perfect, or even by choice, or not, Haley had gotten out. And all he saw now was a normal girl who had a life that they had pulled her away from. She wasn't a hunter. She was away from the monsters and the demons and the pain and the danger, and Dean wanted to bring her right back into it. Where she was now, she was safe, or at least she had been, she had been out of the way of the apocalypse and the angels and the demons. Throwing everything back at her seemed cruel.

"You really want to bring her back into this life, Dean?" pushed Sam. "She has a job back there, friends. Man, she's got a whole life."

Dean scoffed, incredulous. "Are you joking?" he snapped, shaking his head. "That wasn't a life." Sam didn't say anything, just continued to stare at him with the same small frown fixed to his features. "Sam, she was a stripper. Some ex-junkie, hooker. That's not Haley." He was turning defensive, angry. "Now, I'm not saying that I know much about the life she lived back there, but I do know that dancing on a pole for a bunch of sleazy, middle-aged guys is beneath her. And, honestly, I think that she would want us to pull her out of that. Because she's more than that life, and you know it." Dean told him solemnly.

"Yeah, Dean, I do." Sam agreed with him without hesitation, he really did. "But all I'm saying is that dragging her back into this life, especially now when we have an apocalypse hanging over our heads, do you really think that's the best idea? She's gonna be in so much danger. Everything out there is gonna see her as a target."

Dean just shrugged. He honestly didn't think it was a smart suggestion to make, but there was no way of keeping her completely safe and they both knew that. It was a case of leave her in the dark and let her think that she was safe, or they could let her remember and give her the chance to defend herself. For him it wasn't a hard choice. He would rather have his sister back, no matter what the situation or where she had come from, no matter what she was leaving behind, a part of him couldn't bring himself to care. He'd wished every single day for twelve years to have her back in his life, prayed that something could take him back to that night and change it, and it might not have been perfect but she was back, and he wasn't about to give that up. He couldn't watch her walk away again.

"It's Haley." Dean said again, insisting it as though those two words couldn't require an argument.

Sam sighed in defeat and gave a small nod. "Yeah, I know." he muttered.

He wanted his sister back just as much as Dean. He had missed her every single day that she had been gone, the same as Dean. And he had felt that hole in his life the same way that his brother had.

But now, his main priority was her safety. It wasn't about what he wanted, it couldn't be. He couldn't look at it like that because he knew it just led to them making stupid decisions. He remembered the last time Dean had done something with that attitude, when he had sold his soul and gone to hell for him. And hell if he didn't wish that was an option he could make right there, he'd sell his soul in a heartbeat if he could, as long as it would bring her back. But he knew that Dean would just jump right in and offer up his own instead. And he couldn't take losing him again. Once was enough.

Dean cleared his throat, seemingly as an acknowledgement his brother wasn't about to voice any more protests to his plan. In a way, he probably knew anything he said was only going to fall on deaf ears—Dean was too focused—there wasn't a realistic argument he could make. He took a short breath and looked down slightly, head bowed and eyes closed. "Hey, Cas, can you, uh, can you come down? We need to ask you something." He opened one eye and glanced around the room, vacant but for himself and his brother. Sam stood with one eyebrow raised, as if to say 'I told you so', but remained silent. "C'mon, man, it's important." he pushed, frustrated.

"I'm here, Dean." A flat voice toned from behind them. Both Winchesters turned quickly to face him, and Castiel didn't miss the apprehensive look they exchanged between each other before they looked to him. "What do you need?" he pressed, in a tone that suggested he was impatient to listen, as though he had been tempted not to even show his face in the first place.

Dean chose to ignore the continuous awkward behaviour, more awkward than usual, anyway, and gave a short sigh. "Listen, Cas, we were wondering, you know, about Haley." Castiel's frown deepened as he glanced between them, curious. "Can you, I mean, do you know how to..." he trailed off, not quite sure what he intended to say.

Coming straight out with 'I need you to make her remember us' sounded selfish, like he was doing it for himself, even though he knew deep down a part of him was. He just wanted her back. He missed her. He needed her. What brother could really get over the death of their baby sister? It just didn't happen. It wasn't something he could move past, it was just always there, and it always hurt. And now, he had the chance to do something about it. He had the chance to change things, to bring her back, to tell her that he was sorry for letting her down. He had the opportunity to make it right again.

"Can you help her?" he eventually asked, looking the angel straight in the eyes as he spoke.

If it were possible, Castiel's frown deepened even further. He considered his response for a moment, looking unsure, opening and closing his mouth a couple of times before he spoke. "Help her?" he repeated, cautious. He narrowed his eyes as his gaze flickered between the two.

Dean nodded. "Yeah," he shrugged. "You know...make her Haley again." He tried to explain without specifically saying what he wanted him to do. But every second that Castiel didn't understand him just made him more and more wary.

Castiel regarded the hunter for a moment, and then it clicked. He knew what he wanted. "You mean, give her back her memories?" he asked. All he earned in response was a small, unsure nod, but neither men noticed Sam tense at the question. "Dean," he sighed. "I don't know."

"Come on, Cas," Dean practically pleaded with him, he was getting desperate and they all knew it. "This one thing, please."

"Dean," Castiel paused, giving his head the smallest shake, almost unnoticeable. He looked defeated, torn between helping them and leaving them. "It's not that I don't want to help her—"

"Then what the hell is it?" Dean finally snapped, his tone harsh. Sam tensed even more beside him, anticipating him to make a move for the angel. "Huh?" Castiel looked down. "Because I'm not seeing what the big problem is here. I'm asking you to help her, I'm asking you to save my little sister."

Dean spoke with anger, but there was something else beneath it and they could all hear it. Dean's words were filled with pain, despair, dismay. He was hopeless and he needed help. Castiel considered the man for a moment, there was a pleading look in his green eyes—he needed him to bring her back. His eyes moved towards Sam, who stood behind his brother as if ready to grab the back of his shirt should he snap.

The apocalypse had been taking its toll on them both, but especially Dean. After everything that they had been through the past few weeks, with the constant hunting, the deaths of Ellen and Jo, the failed attempt to kill Lucifer with the colt, the constant running from hell and bombardment of attacks from heaven—he was done. And this, having back the one girl who had always been able to bring him hope, it might be enough to keep him going. Sam knew that, he knew it better than anyone. She was what they both needed, because they were running out of people to support them. Bobby was confined to a wheelchair, he couldn't back them up on hunts anymore when things got too rough, not like he had once been able to. Castiel's faith was beginning to wear thin, in both of them. Outside of the two of them, they had no other family.

Castiel's expression remained stony, the way it always seemed to be lately, and gave away nothing. Yet his body language was still shifty. He looked genuinely uncomfortable with the whole situation. "Dean," he finally looked back to the hunter before him, face hard and demanding once again. "What you're asking me to do here, giving your sister back those memories, it's risky."

Dean simply scoffed. "Well, uh, no offence here, Cas, but you seem to be saying that about a lot of things lately." he muttered, he now just sounded pissed. Frustrated and angry. "I'm pretty sure that if you have the angel juice to zap in and out on us at will, you can manage to heal her."

Blue eyes regarded green for a long moment as he thought hard about how to answer that one. He looked to be seriously considering arguing Dean's point with him, but then he seemed to reconsider. After all, arguing with Dean never got him anywhere, he had learned that lesson the hard way. Dean would not be told what to do, he wouldn't be ordered around and he wouldn't take no for an answer when he wanted something bad enough.

"I didn't mean to me." he replied simply, voice solemn.

Sam narrowed his eyes and took a small step forwards to stand beside his brother, as if to remind them that he was still there and that they weren't alone in the room. "Haley?" he pressed, wary.

Castiel's eyes moved from Dean's face to his, watching him closely. "Yes." he gave a short nod. "Giving her back those memories like that, the amount of force to make her remember everything, there's no telling how she's going to react. The shock to her head could do more damage than she can handle." His eyes fell back to Dean. "It's your decision, between you, but I can't guarantee her safety."

Dean shook his head, he didn't look to be remotely phased by Castiel's warning. "I want you to fix her, Cas." he told him, desolate.

"Dean," Castiel stepped forwards, exasperated, and frowned deeper. He had clearly expected his warning to have more of an effect. He didn't want to be the one to destroy their sister's head shoving back in those memories. He needed Dean to understand the risk. "Having that amount of memories put back into a person's head at once, especially when they're the kind of memories your sister has, it's not safe. It's a lot for someone to handle, there isn't—"

"Cas." Dean stopped him before he had the chance to continue. "I want you to fix her." he repeated bluntly.

"Dean," Sam cautioned, he looked between his brother and the angel carefully. It was hard to believe his brother was so willing to risk that with her.

"Cas." Dean spoke again, harsher. His tone was no longer leaving anyone in the room a place to argue with the decision he seemed so determined with.

Castiel breathed out a short breath, giving another small shake of his head and looked down for a moment. He clearly wasn't happy about it. But he finally looked back to him and nodded. "As you wish, Dean." His eyes scanned the room slowly, like he expected her to just show up at their new found consensus. "Where is she?"

"She's out." Sam answered lamely, secretly hoping that it would buy him a little more time to try and talk Dean into thinking through what he was asking for, but before he had a chance to even open his mouth again, Castiel disappeared. And then, something else clicked in his mind, and suddenly it wasn't what they were about to do to Haley that bothered him.

Sam slowly raised his eyes to his brother, looking him up and down. His face was hard, his jaw clenched tightly as if to bite back his anger, and his eyes were fixed solely on the spot ahead where Castiel had been standing, as though just waiting on him to return. There was something about the way he stood, the way he refused to look away from the floor, that Sam knew meant he didn't want to talk, he didn't want to comment on anything or have to try to convince Sam further.

"Uh, Dean," Sam cleared his throat, and for a moment Dean contemplated ignoring him, but he knew that wouldn't get him anywhere. He slowly looked up at him but said nothing. There was a desperation in his eyes for Sam not to try to talk him out of anything further, he didn't want to have to fight with him, not there. He didn't need anymore doubt shoved on top of him. It was his only chance, he didn't see another one coming any time soon, and that meant he had to take it, even if there was a risk. "Did you tell Cas? About her not having her memory?"

Dean looked puzzled for a moment, obviously having not been expecting the question, but frowned. "No, why?"

Sam shook his head. "Because neither did I." he said simply, voice low as though he thought speaking too loud might allow him to hear them. "So, when you said make her Haley again, how did he know you wanted him to put her memory back?"

Dean still looked confused, staring at Sam like he didn't know what to say, before a look of realisation washed over his face. "Son of a bitch." he muttered, more to himself than to Sam. How could he have not seen that before? "He's in on this, I knew it."

Neither knew what to say for a moment, any second he was going to show up there with their sister, and he was going to shove everything back into her head. In fact, that wasn't even what bothered Dean, that was what he wanted. But with Castiel lying to them, with him sneaking around and obviously knowing more about what had happened to Haley than he was letting on, they had to ask. They had to be sure that no one had gotten to him, that he was still on their side, that he wasn't back working for heaven. They needed to be sure that he wasn't a risk to her.

Sam sighed, fighting to remain calm. "Look, maybe we need to take a couple of days here to think before we—"

"No, Sam." Dean cut him off. "I said we're doing this and we're gonna do it. Everything else, whatever it is, we can sort that out later."

A part of Sam knew that it was pointless arguing with his brother when he was so sure of something like he was there. Giving up on Haley wasn't something that he would ever do, and, in his mind, if he thought there was something that could be done to help her, he wouldn't think twice about trying it. He was only seeing the outcome of having her back, he wasn't thinking about what could happen if anything went wrong. And he wasn't about to let himself be talked out of it. Not this time.

Before Sam had a chance to at least try to argue his case, to try to talk some sense of reason into his brother's head, the familiar flutter of wings sounded behind them. They both turned to see Castiel standing with a hand gripped around the top of their sister's arm. She looked between the three of them, her eyes wide, and pulled herself free from his grasp. Everything that she had held together before completely crumbled, she looked freaked out beyond calming.

"The hell was that?!" She was evidently on edge, her fists balled at her sides and ready for a fight. Her eyes searched the three of them rapidly, as though she was trying to work out which one of them she would need to defend herself against first.

Dean moved forwards immediately to get between them and shoved her back into Sam without remorse, who moved her behind him. Castiel looked between them, confused. But neither cared. "I'm only gonna ask you this once, Castiel," Dean almost growled the words at him, and when the word Castiel left his mouth, they all knew that he meant business. "What the hell did you do with my sister?"

Castiel blinked, genuinely taken aback. "Dean, what are you talking about?" His voice faltered a little, as though he knew he had been caught out on something, yet he gave nothing away.

Dean narrowed his eyes at the angel. He had never known him so blatantly lie to them before, not like that, and not about something so important. He was starting to think that trusting him the way he did had been a bad move, that maybe Cas would turn out to be like the rest of them, stringing them along to make them do something they didn't want to do. He couldn't take that. They all knew it, they needed Castiel on their side.

"You knew." he stated. "You knew about her memory, you knew before we told you. You knew where she was. You knew her name. What else aren't you telling us?"

Castiel looked down, his eyes unable to find the green ones glaring through him. "Dean—" he sighed and shook his head, remorseful, as if to ask him not to make him talk.

"Tell me, Cas." he demanded, his patience with the absence of answers long gone.

But in the midst of the arguing none of them noticed Roxy hesitantly backing away, eyes wide in fear. Sam glanced back at her just in time, before she managed to make a break for it. "Roxy," He took a step towards her, his voice calm, and held up his hands to show he wasn't about to attack. He offered up a lame smile, watching her warily as though he expected her to flip out and attack them. "Calm down, alright? No one's gonna hurt you."

She scoffed. "Calm down?!" she repeated, incredulous, still backing away. "Calm down? How the hell do you expect me to calm down when this—" She paused and turned to look Castiel up and down. "G_uy—_just shows up and zaps me here like some kind of freaking alien."

Castiel all but rolled his eyes at her comment. "I can assure you that I'm not an alien." he replied bluntly. "I'm an—"

"Cas." Dean cut him off sharply. "Not helping." He stopped for a moment, seemingly in a mental battle of his own, and gave a defeated shake of his head. "Just do it."

"Dean," Sam went to argue, none of their eyes ever leaving her, but he wouldn't have it. Dean was dead set. "Would you just think about what you're doing here, _please._"

"We're doing it, Sam." He told him sharply. "Cas, do it now." He wanted it done before she had a chance to fight them, before she had the chance to run and they'd have to stop her. Because he could tell, he recognised the look in her eyes, she was about to make a break for it. She was done, she was scared, she was about to try to escape.

Castiel gave a reluctant nod and turned to her. She backed away from him but he was too quick, his fingertips pressed to her forehead, his eyes closed in a concentrated frown. Sam and Dean moved to stand at either side of Castiel, looking between the two of them slowly. He stood there for about five seconds, never moving an inch, until he finally brought back his hand. Roxy, as if coming out of a trance, gasped and stumbled backwards a couple of steps with a hand pressed to her forehead. She looked like she was in severe pain, her eyes rose to find them as the colour washed from her face, she looked as though she was about to be sick. Dean acted on instinct as he watched her balance falter and her eyes roll back, before she fell unconscious into his waiting arms. He picked her up gingerly and looked to Castiel for help, his face the same horrified picture that Sam's was.

"She should wake soon." Was all Castiel said in response to the looks of pure concern and terror on their faces. With that, he vanished.

Sam shook his head, at a complete loss of what to even think. He looked back to Dean, and then to his unconscious sister. "What now?" he asked, like he thought that Dean would be any more with it than he was.

Dean shook his head, his eyes never having left her face. There was something in him that looked like he was suddenly having second thoughts about what he had done, like he was no longer so sure or confident of his idea. He looked down at her knowing deep down that he was now completely powerless to help her, there was nothing more to do now but sit around and wait for her to wake up, there wasn't anything else that he could do. And whatever was to come, it was going to be on him, if she didn't wake up it would be down to him.

Sam could see the fear in his brother's eyes, it was clear as he looked down to her in his arms. And it unnerved him. There wasn't a lot that scared Dean Winchester, but this was something that seemed to. The fear and concern glistened in his eyes, it was clearly plastered over his face. There was no hiding it. From anyone.

"Dean?" he pressed, watching his brother closely.

Dean seemed to snap from his thoughts. "I—I don't know," he shrugged slightly, the best he could without moving her. "Put her upstairs, I guess?" he mumbled in response, not saying a word as he bypassed Sam to the stairs, his eyes never moving up to look at him.

He moved her gently, as though somewhere in his subconscience he was automatically trying not to wake her up, looking down at her like she was just sleeping. But a part of wanted to do nothing but shake her awake and bring her back into consciousness, just so that he could see for himself that she was okay, that what he had forced Castiel to do hadn't caused her harm. But he wasn't that optimistic, nothing ever worked out that well for them. At one point he had thought he had his sister back, and she hadn't remembered who they were. Then he had thought that she was going to remember again, and now she was lying motionless in his arms—he wasn't sure how much more disappointment or bad news he could handle when it came to her.

Dean lay her down gently on the bed and straightened up with a small sigh. He tossed a blanket over her and tentatively took a seat on the edge of the bed, smoothing the brown hair back from her face. "Haley?" he said quietly, knowing that she wouldn't answer him yet trying all the same. "I mean," he paused to clear his throat. "I think you're Haley now...you should be...because I'm counting on you. I know how strong my kid sister is, and if Cas has done his job right and you're you again...I know you're gonna wake up from this. I know you're gonna remember and I know that you're gonna be just fine."

He stopped himself and pulled a hand roughly down his face. He didn't know what he was doing, he didn't even think that she could hear him, but the last thing he wanted was for her to feel that she was alone. Even if she couldn't hear him, he needed her to know that he was there. He wanted to keep the hope that maybe he could get through to her, they said that about people when they were in the hospital and they were unconscious, they encouraged people to talk to their loved ones even on the chance they could hear, so what was the big difference? At least he could try, even if it was partly to comfort himself.

"We're all gonna be just fine." he continued, his voice a low and unsteady whisper, like he wasn't sure that he believed those words himself. "I promise."

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><p><em>Thank you so much for reading, hope you enjoyed! <em>

_Without giving too much away next chapter is really going to focus on some Dean/Sam stuff, and then Chapter Nine is going to be just hugs and sibling moments! There is a lot of stuff coming up soon, back on track with season five and some hunts and au storylines, too. Basically, everything gets dramatic. _

_Also, I've posted a new story this week called Haley Grace Winchester which is like a collection of oneshots written about Haley. I started it because I've had a few PM's asking for them and I decided it would be better to put them all together, rather than post them all seperately, so check that out if you're interested! _

_Thank you all so much for your continued support! Don't forget to review! ;-)_

_Hope you all have a great weekend._

_Next update will be Friday! :-)_


	8. Waiting On Destiny

_Thank you so much for your continued support, and to those of you who reviewed the last chapter! Hope you are all still enjoying!_

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><p><span><strong>Saving Grace<strong>

**Chapter Eight: Waiting On Destiny**

_Bobby's House, 03:56 pm. _

_Two Days Later..._

Dean's movements were silent and undetectable as he opened the door to Haley's room and peered around the edge, as though living in some hope that she might have woken up by now, before his eyes fell to her sleeping form. He released a disheartened sigh and stepped inside, closing the door softly behind himself. The room was an eerie quiet, almost like someone had died there. The barely audible sound of her steady breathing was the only thing there to break the heavy silence and remind him that she was still with him, that she was going to wake up eventually. It was like he was trying to convince himself that she was just sleeping, as though he wanted to let himself believe that she could wake up at any moment, when in reality he didn't have the faintest idea when, or if, she would open her eyes.

He stood there behind the door of the small room for a long moment, his green eyes still fixed on his sister, like he was afraid a single move could disturb her. She looked peaceful when she slept, in a way he hadn't seen her look since they had found her. A part of him hoped she was dreaming of something that made her content, that she was okay where she was. She looked completely at ease as if nothing could bother her while she was sleeping, there was no sign of the troubled past she had lived, the frustration at not knowing who she was had disappeared and the longing look for answers faded.

He wished that things could have been that easy for her. He knew that when she woke up, if Castiel had done his job properly, he and Sam were going to have to explain everything to her. They would have to tell her about the apocalypse, and about everything that had led up to it. They would have to tell her about their dad, and everything they had found out about their mom. They'd have to tell her about the times they had lied to each other and where that had gotten them, about when they had gone behind each other's backs and deceived each other, and about the times when they had acted like anything _but_ brothers. He wasn't sure how she would take that. He had a feeling they both had a slap to the back of the head coming.

Everything that she was going to come back to was so much different from what she had left behind. The world had become a much darker place, there were armies of angels and demons out there now. Hunting, to her, had been just about the monsters and ghosts that their dad had taught them how to kill, it had all been so straightforward back then, it had been a simple black and white job. But now, there were creatures lurking in the darkness that they had never faced before, new challenges and lore to face. Everything had become so much more complicated. He and Sam had changed so much from the brothers she had known as a teenager. They had witnessed so much more evil in their time, they had experienced so much more pain, and loss, and it had left them scarred, like they were just warriors fighting against one big horrific cause. Bobby had grown older, and lately more bitter. He was confined to a wheelchair now, and that was something else that Dean would have to explain. How he had refused to say yes to Zachariah and how that had resulted with him stuck and unable to walk again. There was a new face to the family, Castiel, and he couldn't help but wonder if she and him would get along. Haley had always been like Dean when it came to new people, she didn't trust anyone. And then he remembered how wary Castiel had first been when he had met Sam, and then how awkward and shifty he had seemed when he had seen her at Bobby's house for the first time. They still hadn't gotten to the bottom of that.

It was going to be so much for her to take in, and he couldn't help the anxious feeling that built up in him when he tried to anticipate how she would deal with it all.

Dean slowly moved towards her and tentatively took a seat on the edge of her bed. He looked over her carefully, his eyes scanning the features of her face properly for the first time since she had come back. She looked to be much younger when she slept. He smiled a little as he noticed, through the make up she wore, there was still the barely visible scattering of freckles covering her nose and cheeks. The thin white scar at her hairline remained from the time she had fallen and banged her head at the age of just six, the first of many times in his life that he had taken care of her wounds.

There was an innocence in her face, something that he remembered her having as a kid. When they had been younger and they had stayed in the countless motel rooms he would always, every single night without fail, pause for a few seconds to make sure that she was okay. He would stick his head around her door before he went to bed to make sure that she was sleeping without nightmares, and that there was nothing there to harm her, just making sure that everything was alright. There had always been a young, innocent look about her when she slept, like just for a few hours she was able to let go of the tension and pressure and the defensive stance she always held onto while she was awake.

A part of him still couldn't shake the guilt of what had happened to her that night twelve years ago. He couldn't help but feel responsible for where she had ended up, who she had ended up, and the fact that she was now unconscious in front of him with the chance lingering she wouldn't ever wake up. That made it all worse. He had always promised that he would protect her from everything out there, and somewhere in the back of his mind he had honestly believed that he could. Even as she had grown up, she had always been the tiny little girl that he remembered growing up with, the one who he had been inseparable with for so many years, the girl that he had been more like best friends with than anything else. He remembered the times that he had threatened people, mostly boys, who had crossed her. He remembered when she had gotten into trouble, whether that was with school or otherwise, he had always been the one to stick up for her, to argue her case and bail her out. And he remembered the times that she had been down, the rare occasions that she had cried, he had been the one there to hold her and tell her everything was going to be alright, because she had him, and he wouldn't ever let anyone harm her.

But that had been a promise he had failed to keep. And he had never been able to let go of that.

Dean's heavy thoughts came to an abrupt halt at the sound of heavy footsteps heading down the hallway outside the room. He pulled a hand down his face in some attempt to compose himself and cleared his throat as the door was pushed open by his brother.

Sam frowned a little at the sight of him there but stepped inside the room, the same way he had been doing every couple of hours, just to make sure that she was still okay. However the sight before him had taken him by surprise—it had been the first time he had seen Dean anywhere near that room since he had taken her up there two days earlier. There was a deep and concentrated frown set into his face, his shoulders were slumped and his eyes vacant. He looked completely exhausted.

Sam had been through a lot in the many years he had spent hunting. He had seen family members come and go, he had seen them live and die and come back again, sometimes more than once, and he had seen them being hurt to a degree that seemed beyond fixing. He had waited on them to wake up in the hospital, and he'd had them wait on him to wake up in the same place. It was never an easy thing to go through, and when the time was spent waiting on someone who had no guarantee of waking up at all, forty-eight hours without sleep felt like a lifetime. It only seemed longer when plagued with the daunting thought she might never actually open her eyes again, when there was no indication or sign to give them any kind of an idea when it would happen, or even if it would happen. It was all just one long and tedious waiting game, a time filled up with supressed anxiety and trepidation.

In all honestly, he wasn't quite sure how to go about the situation. He didn't want to think the worst about it, he wanted to have the same amount of faith in her that she had always shown in him, but truthfully, he hadn't been all that optimistic in the first place. If it had been up to him they would have thought through what Castiel had said more thoroughly, they would have talked to her about what they were planning to do before carelessly shoving everything back into her head and hoping for the best. But Dean wouldn't have it. And so they had spent the past two days completely on edge, not sure of what they should be doing with themselves.

"Dean?" Sam said, apprehensive. He didn't really expect an answer. But his voice seemed to pull his brother from his heavy thoughts. He tore his eyes away from Haley and brought them up to find Sam's. "You alright, man?"

The guilt in him was starting to show. Sam knew that just by the fact he was sitting in her room, he wanted to be with her, that was all he had wanted since she had come back, but the desperation to have their sister back had led to him making the decision he had—and so far it wasn't looking to have been a great one. He'd had a thought somewhere in the back of his mind that Dean had been avoiding her for one simple reason—he could no longer look her in the face, not while she was lying there like that. But the pain in his eyes there said something more, he needed her back. She was all they had left. They couldn't lose her again.

Sam was all too used to Dean hiding away his true emotions, he was used to him masking everything that he felt, but the fear was nothing but obvious on his face now. There was a clear picture of worry and remorse set so deep within his features he couldn't hide it from anyone, no matter how hard he intended to try. He looked as though he was someone holding onto their last shred of hope, and that it was fading from him fast. He cleared his throat and offered his brother a small, tired shrug. He didn't look to be completely sure of an answer. There was a hesitance in whatever it was he wanted to say, like he wasn't all that sure about whether he even wanted to admit it to Sam.

"I'm, uh," He glanced back to Haley briefly and shook his head slowly. "I'm starting to think that maybe I didn't do the right thing here, Sammy." he answered quietly, his voice was low and clearly sorrowful.

Sam released a short breath, truthfully he had known this would come eventually, he knew that Dean would get around to turning the blame on himself, he always did. That was who he was.

"Come on," Sam said, closing the door behind himself before he moved to sit on the chair opposite where Dean sat on the edge of her bed. It was where he had been sitting when he came in to check on her, even if it was just for a few minutes at a time, when he would talk to her and try to coax her out of her deep slumber. "We both wanted her back, Dean. You can't blame yourself for this." He offered up a small smile in the way of sympathy, and that only made Dean feel worse.

Dean still remained unconvinced, he always would, and gave another small shake of his head. "Sam, you tried to tell me...you would've thought this through...I just went and shoved all that crap back into her head and hoped for the best." he muttered. He sounded genuinely pissed at himself, but as though his voice was too tired to put in the effort or emotion to portray it.

"Dean, look," Sam sighed, fumbling for some kind of reassurance for his brother. The last thing he needed was for Dean to snap. "Cas said she'd probably wake up soon, right?" he reasoned, hopeful. "You can't start thinking stuff like that, alright?"

"And what if she doesn't wake up, huh?" he snapped back at him, his tone harsh. "Then what? Because you know what, Sam, that's on _me_. All of this is on me."

"Dean—" Sam went to answer him, hoping to pull him from his own heavy thoughts, but he couldn't seem to find the words. He didn't know how to respond to him. His brother was right, there was certainly no guarantee that Castiel had been right in what he had said, there was no proof that she was going to wake up at all, and there was no proof that she was going to be okay even if she did. He had told them both that from the start. But Dean would always blame himself, no matter what Sam said to him, Dean wouldn't let it go, ever. Until the second that she woke up he would think of the whole situation as being no one's fault but his own. And Sam knew that no one, no matter who they were or what they said to him, could break through the hard wall of blame that Dean had built around himself.

"No." Dean stopped Sam before he could argue, before he could try to talk any kind of reason into him. He didn't want to hear it. "I screwed up and I let her die once before, and now—"

"Stop it." Sam cut over him sharply, because that was too far. It was a road that neither of them needed to be walking, a thought that neither of them needed to be dealing with at that point. "No one is going to die, okay? She's gonna be fine." he pushed, his voice remained calm and steady, despite his obvious concern.

Sam had always known that Dean had never gotten over Haley's death. He had never been able to rid himself of the guilt he had held onto from that night. But his older brother had never really explained to him what had happened, he still didn't know. All he and dad had ever said about it was that once they had gotten there it was too late, and that she had been stabbed, and then she and the man who had done it just disappeared right before their eyes. They had never found out what the thing who had done it was, they had never come across it, and Dean had never let that go. Whether he would talk about it or not, there was always a darkness about him when he thought back to it, some scary rage that seemed to overtake his whole body. When someone mentioned her name, or what had happened to her, his mood would immediately turn to anger and defense, like he had still felt the need to protect her even in, what he had thought, her death.

Sam half expected him to do that again, to clam up and hide way what he was feeling, but instead he did something that Sam didn't expect—he lowered his head and softened his expression, breathing out a small, calm sigh. "I can't take losing her again, Sammy." he admitted, it sounded as though it had taken everything in him to say it. His voice remained remorseful and solemn.

Sam thought back to the time after Haley had died. He had always thought that Dean had been beyond strong when she had gone, maybe even a little too strong. He had never once seen him lash out or cause a scene, he didn't ever seem to get angry or upset—in fact, he had often thought in the back of his mind that Dean had pushed his emotions so far down that he had never actually dealt with her death at all. It wasn't unusual for Dean to hide away his sorrow, but he had always found a point where he just couldn't hold onto it anymore. And it had come out in either anger or alcohol, but with Haley there had been nothing.

Or, at least, he had thought there had been nothing. For a long time Sam believed his brother had never batted an eyelid after the night it had happened. But a few years later, coming up to the ninth year without her there, he had heard a very different story from Bobby.

Dean _had_ lashed out. He _had_ caused scenes. He had struggled with it more than anything else he had ever been through before. Sam just hadn't seen it. From what he had heard, Dean's behaviour started just a couple of nights after she had passed. He'd drank himself sick, he'd fought with their dad, he'd gotten into bar fights and landed himself in jail. All without letting onto Sam that he was hurting.

Sam had stared at Bobby, bewildered. He couldn't believe his brother had been through that and he hadn't seen any of it. To think that was going on with his own brother and he hadn't noticed a thing shocked him. He'd thought back, working through Dean's behaviour at the time as if trying to pinpoint something he'd missed to indicate it, but nothing. Sure, he'd been quiet, but that was all. He had always composed himself when he had been around Sam, he never let on that something was wrong.

And then Bobby had told him something else, something that had shaken him even more. About three weeks after it had happened, John had sent Sam to Bobby's, feeding him the story that he and Dean were going to find the thing that had killed Haley, and for almost ten years he had believed that story. Truth was, John had reached the end of his patience with his eldest child, and he had given him a timeout. He didn't support him through the pain, he wasn't there for him. He left him. He told him to sort himself out, that he needed to get his head together before they went back to get Sam. He told him where he'd be in two weeks, and if he sorted himself out he should meet him there. And Dean did. And that was when Sam really _was _sure, Dean had never been able to deal with his little sister's death.

Sam had felt the guilt at being told everything. He hated thinking that Dean had been going through all of that, while at the same time coming back to their motel room and pushing it all down so that he could make sure his brother was okay. Sam wasn't sure how he managed it. And he'd felt as though he should have noticed his behaviour at the time, that maybe he should have realised something more was wrong, that something had been off about him when he hadn't seemed to be dealing with her death at all.

Once he had known that, everything seemed so much clearer. As he thought more about it, he'd realised that wherever Haley was concerned, Dean was completely blank. He wouldn't speak to anyone about her, he wouldn't listen to a conversation about her. And Sam _still _blamed their father for that.

And learning that had only made Sam hate his father more. He couldn't comprehend a father doing that to his own son, right after the death of someone so close to him. And Dean still didn't know that he knew. Sam couldn't tell him. But a part of him thought, maybe that was the reason he had never let himself move past her death—he wouldn't let himself near the emotions that came with it.

Sam suddenly remembered that Dean had spoken, and that he still hadn't replied. He brought his eyes up to meet his brother's—watery and broken—and gave the smallest nod of reassurance. "We're not going to lose her, Dean." he told him, his voice as calm and steady as he could force it to be.

Dean nodded, slowly. "I'm sorry." he mumbled, and Sam thought for a second he had been talking more to her than to him. "I'm sorry we never talked about her, Sam. It wasn't fair."

"You mean_ you_ never talked about her." Sam corrected him. "You refused, Dean, you wouldn't even say her name."

He looked up at Sam, noting the concern in his eyes, the sympathy and the sadness. "I know." He looked back down, away from him. "And I get that I probably should have talked to you about her, I mean, she was your sister, too..." He paused for a moment, shaking her head, he looked miles away. "But her death...or whatever it was...her leaving...man, it screwed me up. More than I wanted to admit back then."

Sam looked from Dean's face to hers, watching her for a moment. He remembered how hard it had been when she had gone, how much it had hurt, but he had never caught onto how much it had truly affected his brother, he had never been able to fully understand that—mostly because Dean refused to tell him. There was something about it that Dean still held onto, and Sam didn't get it.

"You know, I had a thought earlier," Dean suddenly said, his tone changed. "What if she wants to go back, Sam?"

Sam regarded his brother for a moment, not sure of what he meant. "What?"

Dean shrugged. "I mean, when she wakes up and she remembers, what if she still wants to go back? She knows what this life is like, she knows what comes with it, things were so much simpler in the other one."

That stopped Sam silent. He hadn't even thought about that. For all they knew she could come back and want to go back to living in Wisconsin. Back where she had a job, and friends, and safety. She might want nothing to do with hunting anymore, especially after she had seen what it was like to live a normal life. He knew himself how hard it could be to walk away from the security of it all. He realised, they were pretty much waiting on her to walk up and expecting her to turn her back on everything she had known for twelve years of her life.

And then he thought something else, hell if that wouldn't screw his brother up. It was one thing for Haley to leave the way she had before, it was one thing for him to take a hit from 'Roxy', but Haley, the girl who _knew_ him, he wouldn't take being pushed away by her well. If she remembered him and she still walked away from him, Dean wouldn't deal with it. He wouldn't take his sister turning her back on him, the same way he wouldn't deal with Sam leaving him. They couldn't afford to start thinking like that.

"I guess we'll have to cross that bridge when we come to it." Sam muttered in response, looking back to Dean as he spoke.

His brother only gave a short nod in response. "Yeah," he mumbled. "I guess so."

Sam didn't reply, simply let his eyes fall back to the sleeping face of his older sister. All he wanted was for her to wake up, because when she did he knew they could at least do _something._ While she was unconscious there was nothing they could do but wait. And that made everything harder.

He just hoped she would wake up soon, because they both needed her to. Now, more than ever.

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><p><em>GUESS. WHO. COMES. BACK. NEXT. CHAPTER. <em>

_I'm actually really excited for chapter nine! Who doesn't love a good brother/sister moment? Plenty of hugging and stuff ;) _

_Also, I updated my fic Haley Grace Winchester with a chapter that ties in with this one, so you can check that out if you're interested. _

_Thank you so much for reading this chapter, hope you liked it, and don't forget to review!_

_Next update will be Friday!__ :-) Have a great weekend, guys! _


	9. Coming Home

_Thank you all for reading the last chapter, and to those of you who left a review! You're all amazing!_

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><p><span><strong>Saving Grace<strong>

**Chapter Nine: Coming Home**

_Bobby's house — The Next Morning — 09:15 am. _

Haley Winchester opened her eyes for the first time in what felt like forever.

The bright sunlight that came from somewhere over in the distance blinded her, blurring her vision to the point that all she could see was a burning light ahead, as though someone was shining a torch into her eyes. The first thought that crossed her mind was that she had to be _seriously_ hungover, because she couldn't remember the last time she had felt so out of it. She couldn't remember anything that had happened to her, nothing came to mind. At all.

Taking the chance, she pushed herself to sit up and let out an involuntary gasp of pain as a sharp jolt shot through her head. She groaned, in enough pain that tears formed in her eyes, and pressed a hand to her forehead instinctively, squeezing her eyes closed for a moment until the severity of it passed. As it fell back to a dull ache she managed to open her eyes again. Everything around her was fuzzy, almost as though she was looking at the world through someone else's glasses. The pale walls around her blurred into one and seemed to be so much further away than they were in reality. She couldn't even remember going to bed...or, for that matter, whose bed she was in. Apprehensive, she pushed back the covers and looked around slowly, frowning as she tried to play through the events that had led her there, but still, nothing at all came to mind.

Not sure of what else she could do, without a plan in her head, she pushed herself to stand, finding her balance shaky. Taking a breath, more to steady herself than anything else, she crossed the room to the door and pulled it open, revealing a dark and empty hallway. The house was noticeably old, with the wallpaper faded and beginning to peel from the walls, but there was something about it that made it feel homey, she couldn't quite put her finger on it, but she felt a sense of safety there. Heading down the stairs she tried to be as quiet as she could, wincing each time one of the floorboards creaked beneath her feet. She came to a stop in the living room and looked around, perplexed, she didn't know what to do. Where was she supposed to start? Where was she supposed to pull answers from? Why was there no one there?

And then she heard the sound of a door being opened and closed in the next room, followed by the sound of heavy footsteps approaching. She tensed, anxious, afraid, and turned around slowly just as the door to the room opened. A man stepped inside, tall, she knew he could easily overpower her should he want to. He looked up as he entered, his eyes wide at the sight of her, as though it had been the last thing he had expected to see there. In truth, it had been.

Sam looked at her, immediately he knew that something was wrong. She didn't look like Roxy anymore, hell, she didn't even look like Haley. She looked terrified, frozen in fear. That wasn't right. He knew every expression his sister had, and that certainly wasn't one of them.

She spoke first, before he had the chance to even form words. "Who are you?" And that's when his entire face fell, he looked like he wanted to cry. But she barely had the time to notice what was going on with him.

As he opened his mouth to answer, something changed in her expression. It went from confusion to agony in less than a second. She let out a sharp gasp of pain, extreme enough that even he felt it, and grabbed her forehead with both hands. He lunged forwards to grab a firm hold of her before her legs gave out and she collapsed in front of him, she could barely stand on her own two feet, blinded by the impact of the pain.

"Dean!" Sam yelled over his shoulder, hoping to god that his brother could hear him from the back of the house, because he didn't know what else he could do at that point. He was panicked, beyond what he had ever felt before.

Her hands were gripped to the front of his shirt, so hard that her knuckles turned white, her head bowed down and her eyes still squeezed closed. She couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't feel—she was latching onto the nearest thing to her, him. Gradually, as the pain began to subside, she managed to loosen her hold on him. She looked up, opening her eyes to find his, and that was when he saw it all in her eyes—terror, fear, confusion—unadulterated horror.

She knew.

Looking around her she knew everything, she knew where she was, who she was. She took a step back and wrapped her hands in her hair, trying to rid the pain in her head as she fought for the memories she knew were in there somewhere. And then it all hit her like a punch to the face—as though it was all suddenly being slammed back into her head—the force of it knocking her back a couple of steps in shock, she was standing in front of Sam, her brother. It hit her all at once, with prolific force, nauseating shock.

He watched her intently, breathing heavy, tears shining in his eyes, terrified. "Haley?" he pressed, almost scared of what she was going to say. When she still said nothing, he tried again, a little firmer. "Haley?"

Slowly, her eyes moved back to find his. "Sammy?" she breathed out, a hand pressed to her forehead in pain, trying to make sense of it all. A smile broke out on his face, a laugh mixed up with a sob. She didn't know what to do, everything was happening at once, it was all too much, overwhelming to her. "Sam." she cried, like she didn't know what else to do, as her breathing became heavier. He stepped forwards and placed a firm hand to her shoulder, looking down at her in fear. "Oh, God," her hand gripped his sleeve as the colour drained right out of her face. "I'm gonna be sick." Her hand tightened, to the point it hurt his arm, but he barely felt it. "Sam."

"No you're not." That was enough, he grabbed her before she could fall into some kind of panic attack, throwing his arms around her and pulling her towards him tightly. "I've got you, I'm right here, Haley." he whispered, closing his eyes. "I'm right here."

Slowly, she managed to pull herself together enough to raise her shaking arms and wrap them around him. She felt him sigh in slight relief at the feeling, his shoulders falling less tense. As her hands gripped to the back of his shirt she closed her eyes and made a lame attempt to push back the tears that fell from her eyes, soaking into the front of his shirt. But he didn't seem to care. Everything was different about it this time, she _knew_ who he was—the kid she had spent fourteen years of her life with—she _knew _that he was her brother.

Sam didn't know how long they stood there, arms wrapped around each other, it was like time had stopped. Suddenly, it didn't matter anymore that it had been twelve years since they had really seen each other, it felt as though they had never been apart. She suddenly felt so small in his arms, so little compared to him. When they had been younger there hadn't been all that much of a height difference between them. But this time, it felt as though he was holding her, not her holding him. The guy who had once been her kid brother was now so grown up, and she felt like she had missed out on so much.

He pulled back enough to look at her and smiled. His mouth opened and closed a couple of times, as though he was going to say something but his head just wouldn't allow him to bring the words together. There were tear tracks streaked down his cheeks from where he just hadn't been able to hold back the emotion. She looked up at him, managing to push up a small, shaky smile of her own through her tears.

"Look at you," she said simply, her voice light but thick with emotion. "You got tall, kid."

"Yeah," Sam breathed out a laugh. "You didn't."

She nodded and moved back to him, hugging him tighter. Sam smiled to himself and rested his chin to the top of her head. Somehow, everything felt like it was going to be alright, for once in their lives something had gone right for them without it costing them anything. They had their sister back, after all those years.

"Hey, Sammy?" Dean's deep voice called from somewhere just outside of the house, and they both stilled at the sound. They pulled apart and looked back towards the source of the voice, neither speaking a word. Sam realised, Dean had sent him inside for mug of coffee, he was probably wondering where he had gotten to. The back door of the house banged closed behind him as he entered and made his way through towards the living room. "Have you—" But everything came to an abrupt halt when his eyes fell to her. He looked like he had been slapped in the face. "Haley?" he breathed out, his eyes wide in shock.

The smallest smile tugged at her lips, something she struggled to hold as she fought back the urge to start crying again. It felt as though she was seeing him for the first time in forever. In a way, she was. Everything that had happened between them in the past few days was no longer relevant, because it hadn't really been _them. _At least, not who they really were. They hadn't been Dean and Haley there, somehow this was different. This was right.

"Hey, Dean." she whispered, and her voice cracked with emotion at the words.

Dean didn't respond at all for a moment, he didn't look as though he had registered her words at all. He opened and closed his mouth, but nothing left him. He managed to conjure up a small yet broken smile of his own, a mixture of both happiness and pain. "Hey." he replied, barely audible in the quiet room.

Slowly, she took a step back from Sam and turned to him, her movements uncertain. Dean watched her carefully, intently, never blinking, as though he was just waiting for her to dissipate into thin air right before his eyes, the way she had done that night twelve years ago. He couldn't believe that she was actually standing there in front of him. It didn't feel real.

They both moved closer to each other, tentative at first, enough to narrow the gap between them, before they threw their arms around each other, everything else forgotten. Her arms wrapped around his neck, his holding her around her middle. The sobs once again broke out of Haley, she was unable to hold them back. She wasn't even sure why she was crying anymore, whether it was happiness or sadness. She was happy, of course she was, however overwhelming it was, she was right back where she belonged. Her brothers were with her again, and everything seemed okay. For the first time in a long time she didn't feel as though she was alone in the world.

But there was something else weighing on her mind, fear. Brought on by the looks she had seen so clearly in her brother's eyes. What she hadn't really noticed until she had seen them and really known who they were. It was something not many other people would be able to pick up on, but she knew them. They looked weary, tired to the point that no amount of sleep could really help them. There was more damage done to them than looked fixable, the difference in them since the last time they had all been together was astonishing. And it scared her. There was so much more pain weighed down on their shoulders, so much more life visibly drained out of them, so much more hurt behind their eyes—it was the first thing she had picked up on.

Dean just didn't care anymore, he let it go—he didn't care that there were tears in his eyes, threatening to fall, and he couldn't bring himself to care that he was well passed the line of being involved in a 'chick-flick moment'—every ounce of strength he had kept together over the past few days crumbled then and there. He was done. His eyes squeezed closed in some attempt to hold back the tears pooling in his eyes and his head dropped heavily forwards to rest on her shoulder, the same way that hers rested against his. Their arms subconsciously held onto the other stronger, clinging onto them as though they were the only source of oxygen they had.

Her arms secured around him tighter, firmer, when his shoulders gave the smallest shake. She knew he would never willingly let on that he was upset, about anything, and so she did nothing. Sometimes, when she could see how hard he was trying to hold it all back, she would do the gracious thing and pretend not to notice, because she knew that was what he wanted. But there, there was no denying his sorrow when the softest whimper left him, or when he drew a shaky breath and squeezed her harder as he tried to hold it together. She still said nothing as his hands fisted tightly in the material of her t-shirt, unwilling to let go.

It felt surreal to him, she was back, and that was all that mattered at that point. Nothing else even came into focus. After all those years he had spend wishing to god, or whoever would listen to him, that he could have one more chance with her—that he could see her one last time, that he could tell her how sorry he was for everything that had happened to her that night—there she was, right there in his arms. He felt something like hope again, like as long as she was there with him again, as long as the three of them were back together, there was no challenge and no apocalypse that they couldn't beat between them.

Without realising he was doing it, he tried to pull her closer when her sobs grew slightly harsher, still thinking somewhere in the back of his mind that she would vanish if he were to let her go. He was unsure of the last time he had felt the way he did there. The last time had probably been the first time he had seen his brother when he had gotten out of hell. He was filled with a new found sense of reassurance, bravery, motivation, things that he hadn't felt for a long time.

As he regained his ability to think straight again his mind wandered back to that night. "I'm sorry." he whispered, his voice was muffled by her shoulder, but she heard him just fine. She heard him and she felt her heart break in her chest—whatever had happened that night, whatever the reason was for her missing out on years of their lives, whatever the reason was behind her living another life for all that time—she could tell, Dean blamed himself.

Sam looked on at them, tears once again shining in his eyes, because he had never seen anything like that before.

Of course, he had always wanted Haley back, there hadn't been a day that passed where he hadn't thought about her, or how much he and Dean really did need her, how better everything would have been if she had never been taken away. But right there, he realised, a part of him had wanted her back just for Dean. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew how much his brother needed her, because there had been a darkness and emptiness within him since the night she had left—no doubt born of the horrific sight when he had witnessed her being stabbed before his eyes. And being there, looking at the two of them like that, it made it better. Because he could see for himself, everything was okay. The two people who had practically raised him, who mattered most to him the world, they were alive and well, they were with him, and they were safe.

Dean had back the one thing he had needed for the past twelve years, Haley was right there, alive and breathing, and that was enough for Sam to be able to smile again, properly, for the first time in a long time.

When Haley said nothing to him, simply held onto him tighter, Dean pulled away. His hands moved to grip her shoulders, refusing to let go, and his eyes found hers. "Haley, I'm so sorry." he said, so genuine and so sincere she felt like bursting into tears all over again. He just needed her to know. He needed her to understand. He looked over her slowly, for the first time, like he was reading her, just to make sure that nothing was wrong, that he hadn't missed anything. His thumbs brushed the tears from her cheeks gently, and that was when Sam stepped forwards, almost beside his brother as he looked down at her.

"Haley," His voice was soft, quiet, so not to break the calmness that seemed to have fallen through the house for the first time in days. "Are you alright?"

He was still concerned, of course he was, she had all but collapsed in pain right in front of him less than ten minutes ago. She allowed herself to take a step back, out of Dean's hard grasp, and paused for a moment as she seemed to think through her response. For the first time in a long, long time, Haley knew who she was. She remembered everything about her life. She remembered her brothers, her dad, her life. She knew what was out there in the dark, and what it had done to her family, and what her family could do about it.

Her head hurt, she felt a little sick, but that was it. Everything else felt fine. She felt like her again. Like the missing piece inside her had been filled and the thousands of questions that never seemed to stop had finally come to a halt.

After a moment, she nodded. "I think I'm good." she said, a small smile coming to her lips. "What the hell happened to me?"

Sam and Dean exchanged a look, there wasn't an easy way to come out with it, but she knew what was out there, she knew what kind of things could happen. They had to tell her. They didn't have a choice.

"We, uh, we're not completely sure on that yet," Sam began, apprehensive, choosing his words carefully. "We have this...friend. He's, um...well...he's an angel." Haley's eyebrows rose at that, but she said nothing, simply waited for him to continue. "He told us that we had to come find you. You were living that other life and you had no idea who we were, but we don't know why. We don't know what happened to you after that night, other than what you've told us." He paused and looked up to her. "We thought you were dead."

Haley regarded him for a moment. "Hm." she pondered. "Angels." It appeared to be the only word she had taken from the whole explanation, she was obviously far away in her own thoughts.

Dean nodded, a little confused. He remembered how skeptical he had been when he had first been introduced to the concept. He knew back when she had been younger she had shared the same level of faith as him in that kind of thing. "You don't seem too shocked by the idea," he commented. "Please, tell me in the twelve years you've been gone you didn't turn to the church." Haley just looked at him, like she wasn't sure what to say. "That's all we need, Sam, a stripper with a soul."

"Don't be stupid, Dean." she muttered. "Of course I didn't turn to the church." She stopped, thinking about what she was saying, and then looked up to them again. "I met one." Both Sam and Dean's heads snapped up to look at her at that. "I mean, I think I met one."

"You what?" Dean glanced from her to Sam, his face the same mix of anxiousness and curiosity as his own. "When?"

"That night when it, whatever _it_ was, happened. It never made sense to me before, I never remembered. Not until today." She frowned as she thought back. "I think...I think he was legit, you know? I think he saved me."

"He?" Sam raised his eyebrows, hopeful. "Do you have a name?"

She shook her head slowly, and Dean stepped forwards. "Haley, I need you to think, what happened?"

* * *

><p><em>Twelve years earlier — January, 1997 — Marshall, Wisconsin.<em>

In the second that she had felt the blade plunge into her stomach, in the split second that she had blinked, in the moment she had finally broken eye contact with Dean, Haley opened her eyes to a different place. The knife stayed where it was, the arm around her middle never loosened its grip of her, but everything around her was just different. The rain was somehow heavier there, if that had even been possible, bouncing up from the ground in thick drops.

When the arm around her was finally pulled away, the only source of support that she'd had, and the knife was ripped out from her body, she fell forwards to the wet ground beneath her. A small and involuntary pained sob escaped her as she hit the floor beside the man's scuffed boots, landing on her side and propped up by one elbow while her other hand pressed the remaining strength she had to the wound in her stomach. She could feel the blood easily seeping through her t-shirt and jacket, through to her fingers and soaking her hand in the deep red liquid, to almost immediately be rinsed away. She could already feel her life fading away from her, being washed away by the rain.

The sound of footsteps walking towards them grabbed her attention. She wasn't sure that she even wanted to know who they belonged to, because she had a feeling that it wasn't going to be good. "Leave her be, Azazel." A deep voice warned. "The girl is on my orders, not yours. Heaven will deal with her."

For a second she thought she was delirious, that she was hearing things, but the other man took a step forwards, tilting his head to the side, curious. "Heaven, huh?" He narrowed his eyes slightly, intrigued. "And, tell me, why would angels be interested in a Winchester?" The man didn't reply to him, simply stared ahead at him and frowned. But then a small smirk spread over the other man's face as he seemed to answer his own question. "Unless...you have plans for the brothers?"

The man still didn't react. "It's none of your concern." he said, bluntly. "You've done enough damage to this family already. Leave."

He scoffed, incredulous. "I've done enough damage when I say I've done enough damage." he retorted.

But the man didn't appear to be phased by him. He simply took a step forwards and hardened the look on his face. She noticed a silver blade drop from the sleeve of his jacket, gripped in his hand tightly. "Leave, now." he warned, this time a little more forceful. "Or I'll be forced to deal with you, too."

There was a heavy silence for a moment as they stood and stared at each other, as though they were continuing their disagreement without the use of words. The shorter man's face formed a dark frown before he took a step back and sighed, defeated. With a blink of an eye he was gone again, leaving her alone with the man who seemed to tower above where she lay.

He looked to be around forty, dirty blonde hair soaked wet and stuck down flat to his head. His deep brown eyes looked down at her through the darkness, as if he were seeing through her. His simple jeans and t-shirt were almost stuck to his skin through the rain, his thin jacket doing nothing to protect him, but none of it seemed to bother him, he didn't appear to feel it. The silver blade was still gripped firmly in his left hand, the other formed a tight fist.

For a second she was sure that he was going to hurt her, that he had only stopped the other man to get in on it himself, but there was a look in his eyes that made her think he wasn't a man who wanted to hurt anyone. A small, gentle smile washed over his face, a warmness in it that made her feel a little safer. He blurred in her vision for a moment as the amount of blood she was loosing started to take it's effect, only coming back into focus when she took a breath and blinked hard.

"Who are you?" she managed to ask, her voice small and weak.

The man just looked at her for a few seconds, like he wasn't sure of his answer, or he didn't want to tell her. There was a conflicted frown on his face, like he was internally fighting with himself over something, and she wasn't too sure that she wanted to know what that voice in his head was telling him to do. A part of her thought maybe he was torn between helping her and leaving her, or even leaving her and killing her. But he did neither. Instead, he crouched down beside her and watched her closely for a few more seconds, as though he didn't know what to do, his eyes constantly reading her.

"You don't need to be afraid, Haley." he told her simply, his voice much quieter and less demanding than it had been. "I'm an angel of the lord."

Haley made an attempt to laugh, something that came out as more of a choked pained sound. She wanted to ask how he knew her name, how he knew who she was, or where she was. She wanted to ask what he had meant when he had told the other man he'd done enough damage to their family, whether he meant what the thing had done to their mother or whether it had done something more and gotten away with it. Maybe it had done something to her dad and Dean before they had disappeared, or maybe it had done something to Sam. But she didn't have the energy left in her to find out. She was getting weaker and weaker, like she was fighting to stay awake but it was a battle that she was losing. She felt like she hadn't slept in a month, and closing her eyes and giving into it was the best thing she could do. It was becoming harder and harder to keep her eyes open.

She opened her mouth to answer him, but found herself unable to form words. There was too much pain. She could taste the blood in her mouth, feel herself slowly slipping away.

With her last ounce of strength she opened her eyes to the man above her. "Don't let that guy near my brothers," she whispered, unsure where the words had even come from. "Please...if you're really an angel...watch them. Keep them safe."

The man nodded slowly in acknowledgement. "Rest, Haley." he said simply as he reached out and gently rested a hand over her stomach, making the pain fade away as she slowly slipped from consciousness.

* * *

><p>"...and that's it." She shrugged. "Told me he was an angel and then I blacked out. Then I woke up in that hospital without a memory."<p>

Dean looked murderous, in a way she didn't ever remember seeing him look before. She had seen him get mad in the past, she had seen an amount of rage in his eyes that had scared her, but that seemed to be to a whole new level. There was a darkness that she could never have associated with him before. It was well past anger now, it was pure and unadulterated venom. She hadn't known him capable of the amount of fury she saw there.

"Friggin' angels, man. Seriously." He pulled a rough hand down his face and shook his head to himself, frustrated.

"Dean," Sam's voice held the calmness that it always had, and Dean turned to him with raised eyebrows, expectant, as though waiting for him to speak, warning him that it better be good. "I think it might be time to call Cas back." he said, unsure whether Dean was going to go for it or not, especially after what had happened the last time he had been there.

But Dean appeared out of options, he didn't know what else they could do at that point. He looked clueless as to what his next move was going to be, and nodded slowly. "Cas," He closed his eyes and released a deep sigh, clearly anything but happy with it. "You need to get your ass down here, man." He opened an eye and looked around the room slowly.

Sam noticed Haley frowning at him, and he realised it was a whole new concept to her. "That's your attempt at praying to an angel?" she asked, dubious. "You need to get your ass down here?"

Dean rolled his eyes at her and shook his head, impatient. "Come on, Cas." he barked. "It's important. Please."

For a moment he was convinced he wasn't going to show, but then he noticed how Haley's face changed dramatically. She jumped slightly, her eyes wide in shock as she stared off somewhere behind him. Dean turned slowly to see the familiar angel standing behind him, a deep frown on his face.

"Dean." he deadpanned.

"Cas, listen," Dean took a step towards him, not bothering to give him anymore time to speak. "Haley thinks that she met an angel." he began, completely oblivious to the tension that had since surrounded them. "I mean—" He stopped when he realised that Castiel didn't appear to be taking in a word he said. "What?" He followed his eyes to where he was staring at Haley behind him, and turned to see that she was staring back, her brow furrowed in confusion.

"Hello again, Haley." he greeted simply, his voice completely calm and put together, as though there was nothing out of the ordinary about the situation.

She thought for a moment, did he mean hello again since the time he had been there when he had touched her head and she had blacked out, when it had all been one panicked rush and they had been in the same room for about thirty seconds? Or did he mean something more? He said it as though he knew her, like they shared a memory she didn't recall happening. She frowned, seemingly even more confused. "Have we met?"

Dean looked back to Castiel as something seemed to click in his mind, the same thing that had apparently clicked in Sam's at the same time. "Wait...you?" he asked in disbelief. "Cas, did you have something to do with this?" The look on Castiel's face confirmed everything. "You're the one she met that night."

Haley scoffed, and all three men looked to her. She was the only one who didn't seem aware of the seriousness. "What'd you do, get a face job?"

Castiel narrowed his eyes a little. "At the time, I acquired a different vessel."

She opened her mouth, and he just knew that she was going to ask him the same question Dean had done the first time they had met, _'You're possessing some poor bastard?',_ but she didn't have the chance before Dean once again jumped in.

"I'm only going to ask you this one more time," he seethed, growing angrier with every question the angel didn't answer. "Did you have something to do with her losing her memory?"

Castiel shifted uncomfortably, the way he had done the previous time Dean had questioned him on the subject of their sister, and looked away, as though he was unable to hold the lethal stare from him. "Dean—"

"No." Dean cut him off before he had the chance to offer up an excuse. "If her story checks out, if that was you that night, that means you were the last person to see her before all this went down." He took a step closer to him, as if he was squaring up for a fight, something he had done to countless guys when they had been teenagers. "What did you do to my sister?" The angel opened and closed his mouth, because he didn't know what to say. Dean wasn't having any of it. He grabbed a firm hold of the front of his shirt and got in his face, like the thought of him doing something to harm Haley made him completely forget who it was that he was threatening. He knew, had he wanted to, Castiel could've pushed him away without moving a muscle, but he didn't. "Tell me the truth, _now_." he demanded, pushing the words out through gritted teeth.

Castiel sighed, defeated. "My orders were to kill her, Dean." he finally answered, raising his voice a little as though to make sure he got through to him. "You know angels can't go against their orders. I didn't have a choice."

"Your orders were to kill her?" he repeated, incredulous, and Dean's anger almost skyrocketed through the roof at that. "You sure as hell did the next best thing, didn't you?!" He pushed himself back off him, even madder than before. "All this time you've known that she's been out there, you've known where she's been, hell, you must have known that eventually something like this was going to happen, and you still did nothing!" His voice lowered dramatically as he took a step closer to the angel. "All the time you've known us, Cas, after _everything_, did you not think for a second that I'd have liked to know that my kid sister was alive?"

He looked down, almost in shame. "Dean—" He made an attempt to get through to him, but Dean was too far gone to listen.

"And when the hell were you planning to tell me any of this? Huh?" he snapped, he sounded hurt, almost betrayed by the angel. "I mean, were you ever gonna tell us? Because you seemed just fine standing there and lying to my face about it when I asked you what had happened to her." Castiel looked down, unable to answer. "Or were you just waiting on us to work it all out for ourselves?"

Castiel looked up, blue eyes finding his green. He saw the betrayal, the anger, the hurt—and he wished he could make him understand the position he had been in, that all he had really tried to do at the time was protect his sister. If Dean had known everything, if he truly understood the way Castiel had dealt with it, he knew he wouldn't be shouting in his face. But how much could he really tell him? How much did he really want to tell him?

"Dean," he sighed, remorseful. "I couldn't tell you."

"Oh," Dean scoffed. "And why the hell not? Huh?" he challenged, never letting up his defensive tone.

Castiel shook his head. "She was supposed to be dead, Dean." he replied, solemn. "If the angels had found out that she was alive it would have been danger for all of you. They would not have hesitated in finding her and killing her."

Dean's jaw visibly tightened at that comment, but he brushed past it and let it go. One problem at a time. Whatever the angels wanted her for, whatever their intentions to harm her were, he could deal with that later. Now, he was more wound up over the fact the man he had considered family for so long had kept something so big from him. He had known the entire time and never, ever let on. He didn't understand.

"You should've told me, Cas." he said bluntly. He was done shouting, he was done pushing him and showing his anger. Castiel knew he was pissed, he could see the rage in his eyes, and it was somehow worse when he spoke lower. "You shouldn't have left her there. God, anything could have happened to her. The list of things that want revenge on this family is endless, it only takes one to work out where she is and it would've been the end of her."

Sam shook his head, this was all getting out of hand fast. He looked over to Haley, who was staring at them, perplexed. Fifteen minutes ago she hadn't known who she was, and now she was watching her brother screaming in the face of an angel. It was insane, she didn't know what to do. Feeling his eyes on her, she looked to Sam and gave a small nod in their direction, as if to tell him to do something.

He sighed and took a step forwards, as if to remind them that they weren't alone in the room. "You need to calm down." he said, more to his brother than anyone else.

Dean turned on him, the anger once again flaring in his eyes. "Calm down?" he repeated, incredulous. "You're telling me to calm down, Sam? _Seriously_?"

"Dean, your sister's been conscious for about fifteen minutes, why don't you try to chill out a little, hm?" he said, his voice low and hard. "I think we might need to sit down and have a talk, don't you? There might be a few things we have to tell her before we carry on." He shot him a look, warning him it wasn't the time or the place to be having it out with Castiel.

Dean heaved a deep sigh, silently giving in, acknowledging his brother was right without words. "Yeah." he muttered, almost reluctant, because suddenly fighting with an angel who could end his life without blinking seemed much more appealing than the conversation he knew they had coming. "Yeah, I know."

They both turned to face her, seeing the anxiousness suddenly form in her eyes, clearly brought on by their own sense of discomfort. It was as though she could see how much they didn't want to have their next conversation, like she already knew that it wasn't going to be easy, that there was a good chance they were about to tell her something horrible. And she wasn't sure that she wanted to think about what that could be.

Sam shook his head, if only she knew. "Come on," he coaxed, his voice much softer than anyone else's had been for a while. "You might wanna sit down for this."

Haley was apprehensive to move at first, of course she was. But what else was she supposed to do? She had been gone for twelve years, she needed to know what had happened in that time, she didn't really have much of a choice. Tentative, she nodded, and slowly followed her younger brother towards the kitchen where she took a seat at the table. Sam did the same while Dean pulled a bottle of whiskey from one of Bobby's cupboards along with three glasses before joining them.

He poured out a glass for her first and pushed it across the table to where she sat across from them, the same way they had been positioned the previous day, when 'Roxy' had told them about her life.

The two of them shared a wary look, neither of them knowing where they could start, before they looked back to Haley. There was so much to tell her, and so much she needed to tell them, there wasn't really a good place to start. But then Dean knew, there was one burning question that still haunted him, one he had wanted the answer to for twelve years, suddenly nothing else mattered to him.

"What happened to you, Haley?" Dean asked her, he sounded to be at a loss himself, hoping to god that she knew something more than them. They were all confused. "Who was that guy?"

Haley drank back the glass of whiskey, effortless, and slowly brought her eyes up to find his. She almost felt guilty at knowing she couldn't satisfy his curiously, his desperation for answers. "I don't know," she answered, giving a small yet remorseful shrug of her shoulders. "I'd never seen him before that night."

Sam frowned. There_ had_ to be something. "Didn't you notice anything about him?" he pushed, curious. "Anything at all, you know, even if it didn't seem important?"

"He, uh, he said something..." She trailed off and frowned as she thought back, knowing that it wasn't going to go down well with either of them, but they needed to know. "He said he was the one who killed Mom." Sam and Dean looked between each other, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "And he had these yellow eyes...I don't know."

"The demon." Sam said quietly. The colour drained completely from his face. "It was the demon that killed Mom. How could not have seen that?" he asked, more to himself than his brother.

Dean had fallen completely silent at her words, he looked murderous. His fists were balled in front of him on the table, his emotions conflicted. In a way, knowing that he had already taken out the thing that had done that to her, knowing that it had died at his hands after everything it had done to their family, he felt a sense of accomplishment, as though there was a justice in everything. But then there was something else. He had never really hurt the thing. He had vowed, since the night it had happened, that he would make the thing suffer. He hadn't had that chance. But it was dead, there was nothing he could do about that.

After a minute, his initial anger seemed to subside and he managed to bring his gaze back to Sam. "Demons I get," he looked between them, confused. "It doesn't explain why the angels were involved."

Haley looked around slowly, Castiel had since vanished, disappeared before they had taken the chance to ask him anything more. Dean still didn't understand, he didn't get what the angel was hiding from them, or why he was hiding it. He didn't understand why he had been sent to kill their sister, or why he had chosen to remove her memories instead of doing it. He didn't understand why he had never told them, or why he still didn't want to explain it.

"Angels." Haley scoffed, shaking her head as she poured herself another glass of whiskey. "You know, when I left, hunting was all just ghosts and wendigos."

"Yeah," Dean forced a chuckle. "Things got a little more complicated since then."

"Hm." She shot him a sarcastic smile. "I can see that." she quipped.

Never in a million years could she have even considered that angels were real. Had anyone asked her that at sixteen, she was almost certain she, and probably Dean, too, would have laughed in their face. It seemed like a whole other concept, so different from everything else out there in the world. She wasn't sure how to take it.

"Was there anything...different?" Sam suddenly asked, never letting up on his search for answers. He now seemed just as driven as Dean had been, yet his voice was softer, calmer. "You know, when you woke up."

Haley quirked an eyebrow. "You mean other than my memory being totally wiped?" she countered.

Sam nodded. "I mean like cuts, marks, anything at all that you can think of." he tried, thinking back to the hand print left on his brother's shoulder when angels had pulled him from hell. Anything at that point would help them, because they had absolutely no leads. The best shot they had at answers, Castiel, didn't appear willing to help. They had to look wherever they could. "Even if it doesn't seem important."

"Well, there's this..." She slowly got to her feet and cleared her throat, as though she were apprehensive. "Don't freak out." she added, more to Dean than Sam.

Both brothers frowned as she pulled up her t-shirt, tucking it beneath her bra to hold it there. At the front of her left ribs was four lines of black writing, definitely not English. For a second, Dean was about to ask if it were a tattoo, because at first glance that was what it looked like, but then his expression of shock contorted to one of confusion. At a closer look, it appeared more as though it had been burned into her skin, rather than tattooed there. Sam and Dean cast a glance between each other, as if silently asking the same question. Both had their own suspicion of the language, they just hoped that they were wrong.

"I don't care what you say, Hales, that was not there the night you left." Dean said, his voice hard. Something had _put_ that there. It wasn't a tattoo, it was scorched into her flesh, and somehow it only made him madder.

"No, I know," She shrugged and dropped back down into her chair, straightening her shirt. "I don't know where it came from. It was there when I woke up in that hospital, I'd never seen it before."

Sam nodded to himself, deep in thought. "We'll have to check that out." he muttered.

Dean gave a small nod of agreement, it wasn't really something that he wanted to think about. He didn't need anything else to worry about. He didn't need his sister in any more danger, he didn't think he could take anything more happening to her. Not now.

"So," he cleared his throat and looked her over slowly. "You, uh, you got any more ink?"

Haley smirked at him, buying into his obvious attempt at changing the subject. "Not anywhere you wanna see." she remarked. The smirk dropped from his face almost immediately, while Sam snickered to himself. But Haley just rolled her eyes, amused. "Dude, I'm kidding. That's the only one."

There was something they weren't saying to her, she could tell. They wanted to, but it was like they just couldn't bring themselves to begin. She knew that they had sat her down there with the intention of telling her everything that had happened while they had been separated, but by the looks on their faces she could see that it clearly wasn't going to be an easy conversation to have. Yet, a part of her was fully aware that it needed to happen regardless. One of them was going to have to break the ice and start it, and had a strong idea that it wasn't going to be either of them anytime soon.

"So," She spoke lightly, her tone upbeat, despite the underlying trepidation. "You two gonna fill me in on what you've been doing all this time, or what? I mean, I know you guys are a little reckless sometimes but how the hell did you manage to start an apocalypse?"

Dean huffed a small laugh at her words. "Well, long story short," He paused to think through his words, and looked up to face her. "Sammy here got himself killed, stabbed in the back, actually. I sold my soul for him and bought myself a year. After that I went to hell, and I broke the first seal to the apocalypse down there." He completely ignored the look on her face as he spoke. "Now, while I was down in the pit, Sam got himself a little too close to this demon skank named Ruby, and she got him addicted to demon blood, where near the end he was practically chugging the stuff. And that resulted in him breaking the last seal and setting Lucifer free from hell. Now I'm the vessel for Michael and he's the vessel for Lucifer, and we have a bunch of archangels who think that we're about to let them possess us and roast half the planet wearing our meat." he finished with a smile. He said it so simply, so casual, that he could have been describing the weather to her.

"Oh." Haley blinked, perplexed. "Um...wow. Eventful few years you've had there." She frowned, trying to think through everything Dean had just said to her. "Did you just say that he'd died?" she asked, pointing to Sam. "And you've been to hell? What?"

"It's fine," he replied, almost immediately. "I mean, I don't remember hell anyway." Sam shot him a look at that comment, but Dean ignored it. "And between us we've died that many times it doesn't really affect us anymore."

Haley's face suddenly turned completely serious again. "Hold on, where's dad in all of this?" she pressed, reluctant, as though she had been scared to ask them. Neither Sam or Dean answered her, and that only confirmed her suspicions. "Oh god." She shook her head slowly, looking away from them.

Sam's face softened completely, he hadn't even thought about that. It had been twelve years since Haley had seen their father, and as far as she had known he was still alive. They hadn't told her, they hadn't even thought to tell her. She said nothing to either of them, just kept her eyes fixed upon the whiskey glass between her fingertips on the table. There was a vacant look in her eyes, making her unreadable.

"I'm sorry, Haley." Sam said, solemn. He looked to Dean, as though to ask for help, who simply nodded at him. "Look, we know that it's a lot to take in at once, but you need to know. Before we can do anything, you need to know what's going on."

She took a short breath and drank back another glass of whiskey that Dean placed in front of her. "I know," she nodded. "I know. Just...start from the beginning, yeah?"

They both nodded. And between them, they told her everything. They told her almost every single detail of what had happened while she had been away—they told her about Azazel and the psychic kids, they told her about Sam's visions and their dad's death, they told her about Ruby and Bela and Castiel, about Pamela and Ellen and Jo, about Ash and Chuck and the angels, the demons and ghosts and monsters, Lucifer and hell and the apocaplyse—they told her everything. They told her everything they had found out about their parents, and their grandparents, about their mom being a hunter and their dad knowing nothing about it before her death. For hours they explained it all to her, answering every single question she asked, until she knew as much as they did.

Until she was ready...

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><p><em>Thank you for reading this chapter! Hope you enjoyed it. <em>

_There is a lot of stuff coming up soon, more answers and explanations as to why everything happened. You find out next chapter where Haley's 'tattoo' really came from, and who put it there (though I have a feeling some of you have probably worked it out already). A lot of next chapter is going to be either Sam/Haley moments or Dean/Haley moments while they all get back on track with each other. And in the next couple we'll see the three of them get back to hunting, as well as being back on with Season five. _

_Also, a little side note — for my fic Haley Grace Winchester, I've had a few requests sent to me through PM asking for chapters, and I'm getting on with all of them this week, so if you've asked for one look out for an update on that. And if you want one just PM me and let me know, it can be totally AU from Saving Grace, too. (a couple of what I've been writing for it this week are). _

_As always, I really appreciate all of the support I get from you, it means the world! Don't forget to let me know what you thought! _

_And next update will be Friday! Have a good weekend! And a great Christmas to those of you who celebrate it. :-) _


	10. Remembering Our Darkest Hours

_Thank you so much for your reviews last chapter, and to those of you who have favorited and followed. And thank you for taking the time to read! Your support means a lot to me :) _

_Hope you enjoy this chapter!_

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><p><span><strong>Saving Grace<strong>

**Chapter Ten: Remembering Our Darkest Hours**

_Bobby's House — Later That Day_

Dean heaved a sigh and pulled a rough hand down his face as he stepped into the living room of Bobby's house, his mind adrift to the point he could barely even understand his own thoughts anymore—he just didn't know what to do with himself. He hadn't seen either his brother or his sister in over an hour, and he still wasn't sure what they were up to. Sam was in the kitchen on his laptop, he knew that much, researching something or looking for a hunt perhaps, he hadn't really been listening. But Haley, she seemed to have vanished. And, after the morning the three of them had sat through, the more than difficult conversation that had seemed to carry on for hours, he wanted to give them both space—but that was easier said than done. It was hard to stay out of someone's way when they were the only thought swarming around in his head. And, while they needed the space to think things though, to come to terms with the harsh memories that had been brought back to the surface, he didn't. The last thing that Dean wanted right now was time alone with his thoughts, because they were too much to think about for him. Hence, he continued his search for his sister. At least that was taking his mind off everything else, for the time being.

His mind was relentless. It wouldn't stop circulating the same string of unanswerable questions, over and over. Why was Haley back? What really happened that night all those years ago? Why would Castiel want to save her? Why had he been sent down to kill her in the first place? Why did the angels want her? Why did the demons want her? What would they do once they did get their hands on her? How much danger was she really in? They could go on all day. Hell, they _had _gone on all day. There was just no silencing them.

There was a sound behind him as Sam finally left the kitchen, for the first time since he had entered earlier that day. Dean turned to him and gave a small nod. "Hey." he greeted, his voice blunt, emotionless.

Sam frowned a little. He could see from a mile away that something was weighing down on him—something heavier than usual, at least. Honestly, a part of him had thought that, with the conversation they'd had with Haley that morning out of the way and with things looking to be shaping back to normal with the three of them, he would have been a little less tense. But Dean looked to be more on edge than ever.

"Hey," he replied, cautious. "What's up?"

Dean said nothing for a long moment, just tried to work out his answer. He didn't truthfully know. He was worried about Haley, that was understandable, and he was worried about Sam, he couldn't help it. He was worried about what was going on with Castiel, about what was making him so shifty around them, and about what had happened between him and Haley all those years ago. He was worried about the angels or demons swarming in and making some sudden grab for his sister, that he wouldn't be able to protect her from their attacks. He was worried about something taking her away again, about something happening to her, or Sam. He felt as though he was just waiting for the other shoe to drop, like it was inevitable that something had to go wrong eventually. Sam and Haley's safety was on him, it always had been, and he'd be damned if he was going to let one of them get hurt again. He couldn't take that feeling of guilt, loss, pain, whatever it had been, for another twelve years of his life. He wasn't sure he'd make it again.

He snapped out of his heavy thoughts at the sound of light footsteps descending the stairs. He and Sam turned to see Haley heading down them, and he looked her up and down slowly as she approached. She wore a navy blue vest with black sweatpants and trainers, her brown hair was pulled back and her face was bare of make-up. There was something about her appearance that just hit him for a moment, and dragged him right back to that night twelve years ago. That had been the same, she had emerged from her room, all smiles like there was nothing wrong with the world, and she had left. But everything that came after had left nothing to smile about. But, he shook those thoughts from his head as Haley smiled at them, he didn't need to go back there. Not again.

Dean cleared his throat as he tried to focus his mind somewhere else. "Where are you going?" he asked her simply, as though nothing about the situation bothered him. An obvious lie.

Haley looked up and cocked an eyebrow at him. She glanced down at her clothes for a moment before she looked back to him, as though he had just asked her the most ridiculous question he could think up. Even Sam had thrown him a dubious glance at it. "Running." she replied simply, shooting him an odd look.

"Running?" he repeated, skeptical, as though the concept was something foreign to him.

Haley couldn't help but frown at his behaviour, she wasn't sure if he was doing it on purpose just to mess with her, or if he was genuinely confused. "Yeah," she spoke slowly, like she assumed he was having a hard time understanding her. "You know, going from one place to another without the use of a car you still mistake as being your own child."

Sam snorted a laugh at the comment, but only earned himself a sharp glare from his brother, who clearly didn't see anything to joke about. He ignored her sarcasm, focusing on the main problem—she was planning to leave the house, alone, without either of them there to keep an eye on her. He couldn't let her do it. How was he supposed to? After everything, he couldn't risk it.

"Not alone you're not." he told her bluntly, his tone leaving her no room to argue. "I mean, do you even have a weapon on you?" The look of disbelief on her face told him no. "So, what do you plan to do when something jumps out and attacks you? Hm?"

Haley shook her head, incredulous. "Dude, it's Sioux Falls," she countered. "What's going to happen to me around here?"

But Dean clearly wasn't having it, and the scowl never faltered from his face. "Haley, I said no, alright?" he sighed. "Sam, you're going with her."

Sam huffed, he knew it was pointless trying to argue with him, and nodded. "Alright," he said. "Give me five minutes, I'll get changed."

If he had turned around and said no, that meant Haley wasn't going anywhere, either, which meant her and Dean would be at each other's throats for the rest of the day. He knew she wanted to get out, hell, so did he, but Dean was set on them staying put. All three of them were climbing the walls, frustrated, but he was still calling the shots. He understood his brother's problem, of course he did, but he also knew that crowding Haley wasn't the answer. They couldn't keep her attached to them forever out of fear she could get hurt again. In a way, Haley took orders from people in the same way that Dean did, meaning she didn't. Eventually, she wouldn't let them tell her what to do anymore, she wouldn't take being ordered around or being told where she could and couldn't go. Not a chance. Eventually, if Dean carried on like that, it would lead to a fight. They had to trust her to be okay. But, especially with Dean, that was easier said than done. He had seen how something as simple as running out for food had gone so drastically wrong with her, he couldn't risk it again.

Dean and Haley watched Sam leave the room, and neither spoke a word until he had disappeared up the stairs. He turned back to her, not expecting the look he saw on her face. He opened his mouth to say something, maybe to explain himself, but she got there first, and he could tell by her tone that she wasn't happy with him.

"Is there a reason you don't trust me to leave the house alone?" she asked, defensive. "Or are you just being a dick?"

"Haley, it's not safe." Dean said sternly, but he could see her reluctance to accept that. She never had been someone to look at danger, she didn't seem to anticipate things going wrong.

"According to you," she retorted. "I'm a big girl, Dean. I can take care of myself, alright? You need to stop." She turned to walk away but Dean grabbed a firm hold of her wrist to stop her and pulled her around to face him again.

Haley looked a little taken aback at the contact, but he didn't notice. What did she mean by that? He needed to stop. Did that mean she wanted him to stop worrying about her? To stop trying to keep her safe? To stop telling her that she needed to be careful? How was he supposed to stop? Who else was going to watch her back?

"Haley, you listen to me right now," The hard and urgent tone of his voice suddenly grabbed her full attention, it was rare that he ever spoke to her like that. "You can fight it and be pissed at me all you want, I don't really care, but until we know what's really going on with you, until we know why you have angels and demons out for your neck, you're staying with one of us, okay? No arguments."

Haley narrowed her eyes at him, studying his face, as though looking for more of an explanation. There was definitely something more there, but she couldn't quite work out what it was. "You think I'm different." Her voice was serious, and she felt his hand tighten around her arm as he gripped it harder, like he expected her to turn and run from him. "But, I'm not. Dean, it's still me, alright? I know what I'm doing." He didn't look at all convinced, his hold of her never letting up. "What, you think I can't hunt anymore, is that it?"

"No, don't be stupid." he said, almost automatic, because it really was a ridiculous comment. He couldn't believe she would even consider him thinking that. "That has nothing to do with it."

And, really, that was true. It was nothing to do with her hunting, it never had been. It was about everything else in the world hunting her. It was about things harming her, killing her, not the other way around. There wasn't a doubt in his mind how well she could handle herself, hell, he had taken a right hook from her a few days earlier that had nearly knocked him flat on his ass.

Haley sighed, and, as if to prove a point, she pulled herself free from his hold. "Then what?" she pushed, impatient. "Huh? Really, Dean, what is it?"

Dean sighed, how was he supposed to explain it to her? He couldn't make her understand. Really, he didn't want to make her understand. He just wanted her to trust him. When he said something wasn't safe he wanted her to believe him and to stay away, but that wasn't her. It never had been. And he knew it never would be.

"Just...forget it," he muttered, defeated. He couldn't face that conversation with her. "Doesn't matter."

Haley scoffed. "Oh, right, yeah, I forgot," She wanted to be understanding, but she was too wrapped up in their argument, she didn't know where the words were coming from. "Dean Winchester doesn't talk to anyone...about anything."

That comment seemed to touch a nerve, it pushed him over the edge. Now he didn't care. "You know something, Haley?" He sounded angry, yet at the same time his voice was soft, understanding. "There wasn't one day in those twelve years that I didn't wish I could have you back, and now..." He trailed off, shaking his head. "I just...Haley, I can't—I won't—risk your life like that again. I can't go through it all again, Hales. _Please_."

And the pleading look in his eyes suddenly caught her off guard. There was so much hurt there, so much pain locked away and pushed down, her entire stance softened. Dean never looked like that, ever. Not unless there was something truly bothering him. "What are you talking about?" she asked him, because she really did want to comprehend what was going on in his head, she wanted to help, she wanted him to be okay.

Dean sighed. "Loosing you almost killed me, Haley. I mean, I didn't know what I was supposed to do. Everything just—" He stopped himself and took a short breath. "I'm not doing it again, I can't. So please, for once in your life, I'm begging you here, just do what I'm telling you to do and keep yourself safe."

Haley shook her head, lost. She didn't know what she wanted to say to him, she couldn't find the words. "Dean—"

He seemed to think that she was going to argue with him. "No," he stopped her before she could. "You don't get it, Haley. I _watched _you being stabbed. I had to live twelve years of my life thinking that you were really gone, knowing that _I _had let you down. I can't take it again. I can't see you get hurt again." His eyes moved up to find hers. "I can't tell Sammy that you're gone again."

That comment stopped her. "Wait, you told Sam?"

Haley hadn't even thought about that. She hadn't thought for a second about what had happened that night with her dad and Dean. She had disappeared, and everything had stopped for her, but they had remained there on that street. They had been standing there in the rain. They had been there while she had been gone. Everything had carried on for them.

Dean nodded slowly and stared off at nothing, like his mind was now lost somewhere else. "Hardest thing I ever had to do..."

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><p><em>Twelve Years Earlier — January, 1997 — Boulder, Colorado <em>

Dean came to a stop outside of the motel room, his fingertips hovering slightly over the wet door handle, convinced that he didn't want to face what was to come on the other side of the wood. His father's instructions had been clear—go straight back to the motel room and check that Sam was okay—and Dean, at the time, hadn't really given it a second thought. His Dad had turned his back on him and walked away, and Dean found that he couldn't honestly care less where he had gone to, while he had slowly made his way back to the motel. He couldn't remember walking there, he hadn't been paying much attention to what his body was doing, he was simply moving forward, he wasn't actually going anywhere. He was going through the motions because that was what he had to do, either that or stand in the middle of the road in the rain for the rest of the night. He hadn't questioned it, he hadn't argued it with his dad, he had just done it.

He felt as though his entire world had come crashing down around him with the downpour, like everything in existence had been ripped out from under him and flipped upside down. It was surreal. He didn't know what to do. Hell, what _was_ he supposed to do? He didn't know where to start.

The bile rose up in his chest, he could feel it coming, and he backed away from the door, a hand pressed to his mouth, trying to push the feeling away. But sure enough he found himself hunched over at the edge of the parking lot, a hand pressed firmly to his stomach and another leaning against the wall of the motel while he emptied the contents of his stomach. As it came, the tears rolled down his cheeks, and as he straightened up and spat at the ground, he made no effort to wipe them away again. What was the point? The rain had pretty much done it for him. Hell, he wasn't sure that he even cared anymore. He felt nothing at that point. His sister was gone, what was there to feel anymore but the bad stuff?

A part of him wanted to stand outside in the storm, just stay exactly where he was right there, because he wasn't sure that he could face his brother at that point. He couldn't take seeing the broken look he knew he was about to see, he couldn't handle breaking the harrowing news of what he had just witnessed. He knew his brother, and Sam was going to want answers, he was going to ask what had happened, and Dean was going to have to explain it to him. He would have to describe what he had seen, even though he still couldn't comprehend it himself. He was going to tell him what he had still to wrap his head around himself.

With a short breath, Dean realized that, however much he wanted to, he couldn't hide outside the room forever—it wasn't fair to Sam, who was probably pacing the floor worried sick about them all. Tentatively, he moved back to the spot he had originally been standing in outside the room and paused before he he turned the knob, taking a breath to compose himself as he pushed open the door. He wanted to turn and leave, unsure that he had it in him to do it, but before he could even pull together a coherent thought, Sam came running out from his bedroom. There was an urgency in his face, his eyes immediately scanning Dean for answers.

"Dean?" He approached him quickly, anxious. "Are you alright? What happened? What's going on?" He barely took a breath between his questions, bombarding Dean all at once with his desperation for answers. But then Dean looked up at him, and the look on the face of his elder brother stopped him in his tracks—he looked wrecked, in a way that Sam had never seen anybody look before. There was water streaked down his face, and for a moment he had to wonder if all of it was rain. But he shook the thoughts from his head, no, Dean was fine. He had to be. "Dean?" he pushed, his voice suddenly much quieter, he almost sounded afraid. "Where's Haley? And Dad?"

Dean simply didn't respond to him, he didn't even move. He didn't react to any of the string of questions that fell from Sam's mouth. He couldn't find an answer, he didn't think at that point he could even form words, let alone look him in the face and explain to him what had happened. Instead, he slowly pulled off his dripping wet jacket and dropped it carelessly over the back of a chair at the small table beside the door. He moved slow, almost like a ghost, like he wasn't really in there. His eyes were staring down at the floor, unseeing, anywhere but Sam. He had never seen him look like that before, and it honestly terrified him. Was he hurt? Had something happened? Where was their dad and their sister? What had dad called for in the first place? What the hell was going on?

"Dean?" Sam pressed, he now sounded timid, frightened of Dean's response, should he even get one.

The elder Winchester dropped heavily to the couch and rested his forehead against his palms. His jaw was tightly clenched, his eyes squeezed closed, and if Sam hadn't known better, he would have said that Dean was fighting back tears. He noticed how his fingertips were digging into the back of his head, his knuckles almost white from the force. But after a moment, he seemed to steady himself slightly, he pulled himself together and brought down his hands to his lap, breathing out a shaky breath.

"Sammy—" He tried to speak, but his voice cracked at the word. He spoke low, so quiet that he had barely heard it himself. "C'mere." he said, a little clearer, never once looking up from where his green eyes remained focused straight at the floor ahead.

Sam's brow furrowed, curiously he moved to sit down beside him on the couch, apprehensive. He once again looked over him, almost dreading whatever it was he was about to tell him. "Dean," he coaxed. "What's going on?" He tried again for answers, unsure of whether Dean could physically bring himself to say what it was that had happened. He spoke with such innocence, such fear that Dean had to once again force back his emotion.

He cleared his throat and contemplated his answer for a long moment. "It's Haley," His voice remained little more than a whisper. He sat up a little straighter and finally turned to face Sam, bringing up his eyes to find his. And that was when Sam saw it all, the unshed tears shining there, confirming every fear he had. "She's gone, Sammy."

Sam stared at him, he couldn't speak. For a moment he wanted to laugh—to scoff in his face and tell him that it was all just one big, sick joke—because Haley was fine, she always was, she had to be. Dean wouldn't let anything get her, he had always promised him that, and Sam had always believed him, he had always believed that nothing would ever happen to his sister. He needed her. His mind raced, all the horrible thoughts sinking in at once.

"What—what happened?" he managed to ask, his voice shaky, small, trepid.

"I—" Dean opened and closed his mouth, what was he supposed to tell him? He didn't know. "I—I don't know, Sam." He shook his head and pulled a hand down his face. "She, uh, she was stabbed...I don't know."

Sam just shook his head, refusing to accept it. He _couldn't _accept it. She couldn't be gone. Dean didn't know what else to tell him, he simply looked at him, trying to decipher what was going through his head. But he couldn't. And he knew that Sam was somehow doing the same thing to him. All he saw in Dean was pain, grief, anger, confusion. There was a pleading look in his eyes, almost begging Sam not to ask him any more questions, telling him that he just didn't have the answers he wanted from him. He was obviously shattered, in a way that neither of them seemed able to comprehend. There was a part of Sam that just wanted to crawl away and be alone, not to have to talk to anyone, not to have to face reality, not to have to think or feel anything, but there was a bigger part of him—there was a part of him that needed someone—he needed Dean.

Hesitant, Dean reached out an arm and rested it around Sam's small shoulders, pulling him closer and giving him a tight squeeze. He didn't know what he could say—neither of them did—there wasn't anything they could say. Nothing was going to bring her back, nothing was going to make it okay again, and nothing was going to give them answers or justice. All they could do was wait—wait for their dad to get back, wait for some answers, wait for something else to happen, wait for it to stop hurting—wait for something they weren't sure was coming.

Within a few minutes the initial shock seemed to wear off Sam, and Dean could almost see it all sinking into his head. His body gradually became less tense and he softened himself so that his face was buried in Dean's shoulder, while Dean brought up his other arm to tighten around him. He rested his face to the top of Sam's head, his nose pressed against his hair, holding him a little tighter. He could feel Sam's body shaking slightly, feel his tears as they slowly soaked through the front of his t-shirt, and see how hard he was trying to hide it all—but it was no use. There was no hiding the true amount of pain that either of them felt. Not this time.

Dean hadn't seen Sam cry in a long, long time. Not since the Christmas night he and Haley had finally admitted to him what was really out there in the darkness, what their dad really did for a living, and what had happened to their mom the night she had died. That had been the night Dean had made him and his sister a simple promise—that he would never, ever, let anything get to them, that they would always be safe as long as he was around—a promise that he had failed to keep.

* * *

><p><em>Present<em>

Haley stared at him, unsure of what to say. It wasn't often that she, or anyone, would see such a vulnerable side of Dean. He never let it out. He never talked about things like that. Truthfully, she was a little taken aback by his sudden honesty. There were tears shining in his eyes, his voice raw with emotion as he spoke about it, and it almost brought tears to her eyes. Because, had that been the other way around, had things been different and she had been in Dean's position, there was no doubt in her mind that she would have broken long before he had done. There was no way she would have been able to sit Sam down and tell him that something had happened to Dean. It was unthinkable.

"Dean—" she tried to say something, but there were no words.

"Don't." He gave a soft sigh and shook his head. "Please, Haley, just don't."

Anything she said to him was just going to make him feel worse, no matter how much she tried to reassure him, or however much she tried to make it okay, that was the point, it was never going to be okay. Even though she was back with them, it didn't change what had happened that night. And he couldn't let it go. He didn't want her sympathy, he didn't want her to carry it on, and he didn't want her to look at him the way she was there. There was so much hurt in her expression, as though she wanted to cry, and he couldn't take it. He couldn't look at that expression on her, because it made everything worse, knowing that he had put it there. She wanted to help him, and he knew, there wasn't any helping him—not when it came to that.

Somehow, they both managed to compose themselves as Sam headed down the stairs again, changed into some sweatpants and a t-shirt. He looked between them, as if sensing something was wrong. Dean's jaw was tightly clenched, a clear show that he was biting back his emotion, while tears still swam in Haley's green eyes.

Cautious, he stepped closer to them and cleared his throat. "You ready?" he asked Haley, acting as though nothing was wrong.

Haley said nothing for a moment, her eyes focused on Dean, before she nodded. "Yeah," she replied quietly. "I'm ready." With that, she moved past Dean and headed out of the house, refusing to look at either of them as she did.

Sam frowned but followed her, maintaining that he didn't want to press whatever had been said between them, because he could take a pretty good guess. "Hey," Dean's voice stopped him before he could leave. He turned in the doorway to face him. "Watch her," he said, sternly. "And yourself."

Sam nodded. He didn't need to be told that. "Sure," he said. "I'll see you later." With that, he pulled the door closed behind himself and headed after his sister.

"Where are they going?" A voice asked from behind him.

Dean turned to Bobby to the curious face of Bobby and gave a small shake of his head. "Running." he muttered, still not sounding entirely sure about it.

Bobby raised an eyebrow, his face mirroring Dean's. "Running?" he repeated, he sounded as lost as he had.

Dean scoffed. "Yeah," he shrugged. "That's what I said."

Bobby watched him as he moved to sit down on the couch, running a hand through his hair as he did. Dean was stressed, that was obvious just by looking at him, he was lost and he didn't know what to do. "How you doing, kid?" he asked him, and Dean glanced up at the question, as though he hadn't been expecting it. "Having her back, I mean."

"I don't know, Bobby," he sighed, frustrated. "She's just...she doesn't listen."

He gave a small, fond chuckle, nodding in agreement. "She hasn't changed." he commented.

Dean shook his head. "How am I supposed to keep her safe when she won't even look out for herself?" he asked, defeated. "She doesn't get it, Bobby. She doesn't get how much danger she's in."

"Of course she knows." Bobby countered. "She isn't stupid, Dean. You tell her that she has angels and demons on her ass, she knows she's in danger." Dean frowned, as if to tell him he didn't understand, and Bobby bit back the urge to call him and idgit. "Tell me something," he continued. "Someone told you the same thing would you hide away from it?" Dean looked up at him, he hadn't thought about that. "Just because she's acting like she isn't afraid don't mean she's not."

"Huh." Dean hadn't actually considered the fact that his sister really was scared. But, thinking it through, would she even tell them if she was? He could take a good guess that the answer would be no. She never had been someone to ask for help when she needed it, or to admit when something was bothering her. She was like him when it came to things like that, it was the way they had been raised.

For all he knew she was scared out of her mind and she was just refusing to let it show, that wouldn't surprise him. In fact, he realized then that he should have expected it. They were all the same, none of them would ever hide away from their problems, they wouldn't stay put somewhere out of fear something could find them, it was ridiculous to think that she would have. He knew for a fact if Sam had suggested to him they go into hiding over the angels he would have turned around and laughed in his face, the same way Sam would have to him. Haley wasn't any different.

* * *

><p><em>South Dakota — Two Hours Later <em>

"Okay—" Haley reached out an arm ahead of her and grabbed a firm hold of Sam as she slowed down from his fast pace. "Okay, you win." she breathed out, bending down to rest her hands against her knees for a moment. Sam stopped and turned to look at her, a small smile cracking at his lips as he did. "Jesus," As she straightened up again, she looked him up and down, shaking her head. "Look at you, you're barely even out of breath." He chuckled as she poked at his bicep, frowning. "When did that happen?"

The Sam she had known back when they had been teenagers had been so small in comparison, he had been tall and skinny, and now he was tall and muscular—it crossed her mind that somehow he had gone from being a boy to being a man in those twelve years—and she had missed it all.

"Somewhere along the line," he replied, giving a short laugh. "Not quite sure exactly."

Sam thought for a moment as they began walking down the path in silence, he didn't even know where they were. He had a good idea they were miles away from Bobby's house, they had just been running without direction, yet it didn't seem to matter to either of them where they had ended up. Suddenly, away from that house, there was something about her—she appeared free. There was a small smile on her face, as though she was content in just being there, away from the constant surrounding of the same four walls, or having people breathing down her neck. He knew he needed to say something about it, he wanted to, but at the same time he didn't. He didn't want to talk about it anymore, he just wanted things to go back to normal—the way they were there—but in reality, things were anything but normal. They both knew he was there to babysit her because Dean didn't want her out of the house alone, and they both knew that she really didn't need it. It was just Dean's way of making sure she was safe.

"You shouldn't let him get to you." he suddenly commented.

Haley didn't appear to have been listening to him, and looked up at his words. "Huh?"

"Dean." Sam clarified. "You know he's just worried about you. I mean, you kinda gotta expect him to be a little overprotective for a while after everything that's happened."

"Yeah," she sighed, nodding slowly. "I know."

Nothing was said for a long moment, both of them lost in their own thoughts. Haley wasn't sure what she wanted to think about, there was certain parts of what her brothers had told her just weighing constantly on her mind, and she wanted to ask more questions, she really did, but she just couldn't. They had spent hours telling her everything they could, they had answered every single question she had asked them—aside from the ones they didn't have the answers to—and, at the time, that was all she could take. But there was one thing, more where Sam was concerned than anything else, that had stuck out to her. Sure, after the family drama and the deaths, most of what they had told her was somewhat believable—to people like them, at least, it wasn't all that out of the ordinary. And she wasn't surprised in the slightest that, if someone was going to free the devil from hell and start an apocalypse, it had turned out to be her brothers, of course it would be them. But there was something more.

"Hey, Sam? I wanna ask you something..." she hesitated, because she didn't know how to word it, but he noticed. "It's something I didn't really wanna bring up again in front of Dean."

That caught his attention. He looked down at her, frowning. "Sure."

There was one thing that was way out of character for her younger brother, she cleared her throat and never once looked up at him. "Demon blood, Sam?" At that, she did glance up, and she saw the shame flicker through his features. "That's...different."

Truth was, Sam hadn't explained it, and he had known at the time eventually she would ask. And he had hoped in that time he could think up something to say that wouldn't make him sound as awful as he felt, but there was nothing. He couldn't find the words to make it right, he didn't think there were any. He had to be honest. At the time, both he and Dean had been perfectly fine giving as few details on that matter as they could. Dean didn't want to get into how dark his and Sam's relationship had truly gotten those months, and Sam gave the barest details of his relationship with Ruby. And, for a while, she had been okay to accept that.

"Haley," he sighed. What could he even say? "I'm sorry."

"Dude," Haley shook her head. "That's not what I meant, you don't have to apologize to me. It's okay."

"No," Sam shook his head sternly, because suddenly it wasn't okay. He couldn't brush it away and not tell her, he couldn't sugarcoat it and make out like it hadn't been his fault, he didn't want to lie to her. "It's not okay, Haley. You weren't there, you didn't see what I did...what I became..." he sighed. "I was a monster."

That was all she needed to hear. Dean had told her himself about how hard Sam had been on himself over the years, especially when it came to what had gone on with Ruby—although he hadn't gone into detail—and with everything surrounding their mom and the demon. And he had told her about how so many other hunters had thought Sam to be some kind of monster, people like Gordon Walker, and about how, for a time, Sam had somewhat agreed with them. She could see it in his eyes, he was racked with guilt as he thought about whatever it was that had gone on. And somewhere he knew, Haley wasn't trying to blame him or give him a stern talk about it, she simply wanted to understand what had happened while she had been away.

"You weren't a monster, Sam." she stated, quite bluntly, like she had no time to listen to anything else. "Look, you know, you're right, I wasn't here, and I didn't _see_ what you were. But, I _know _you, alright? And I know that you wouldn't hurt anyone without good reason, because you don't have it in you." Sam looked down at her, conflicted. "Trust me, I'm sure Dean told you this himself, you don't have it in you to be a monster. And, I know for a fact that whatever mistakes you might have made the past few years, you probably only made them because you thought you were doing the right thing."

Sam found a small smile on his lips, he knew exactly what Dean meant when he said she could fix everything. No matter what it was, no matter how dark or how deep things were getting, Dean had always stood by the fact that she could twist any situation around so it seemed better.

"I can't believe you ever ended up in hunting, Sam." she sighed. There was a sad frown on her face as she looked down at the pavement passing beneath their feet as they walked, one that held nothing but sympathy and regret. "I mean, I always thought that you'd make it out."

Sam looked down, that was something else they hadn't told her. Everything else, no problem, but as Dean had been explaining everything, he had graced his way over Sam leaving to go to Stanford—Sam thought perhaps so he could tell her himself, but that was an opportunity he chose not to take. There was something about it that he just didn't want to explain—like the fight with their dad, how he had gone years without so much as speaking to Dean, about Jess and her death—it was too hard. And then he thought, did he really want her to know? Did he really want her to have something else on her mind? But then, not telling her something was one thing, lying about it was another. He couldn't stand there and lie to her face, that was a line he just refused to cross.

"I did." he answered, speaking without any emotion in his voice. "Because of you, I did. I went to college, got a full ride to Stanford. I mean, you always told me that if hunting wasn't what I wanted I should do what I could to leave it."

Haley smiled up at him, and he saw she looked genuinely proud—something he definitely hadn't seen in their father's face when he had found out. And Haley had been the only one of them who had ever known that Sam didn't want to be a hunter. He had told Dean and his dad on the night he planned to leave, but Haley had known long before that. She had known all along, and she had always promised that she would be there to stand by him when the time came for him to go. He remembered how she had told him she would take care of their dad, and there had been no doubt in his mind that, had she been there that night, things would have been resolved with a lot more peace.

"Full ride, huh?" she nodded. "That's great, Sam." There was a happiness in her voice, but it was mixed with something else—something that he thought meant she knew whatever he was going to say next wasn't good—like she knew something awful must have happened for him to be there with them again. "So, what happened?" she frowned. "How'd you end up back in this mess?"

"I, uh, I went on a hunt...with Dean." He spoke slowly, thinking through his words carefully. "It was about four years ago, when we told you Dad was missing...I was at college, and Dean came to get me. I left for the weekend, just to help him, you know...one hunt..." He trailed off and shook his head. "And when I came back, my girlfriend was burning on the ceiling...the same thing that killed mom...that stabbed you."

She said nothing for a long moment, taking the time for his words to sink in. "Oh, god," There were tears in her eyes, as though she was in pain just thinking about it. "Sammy," She shook her head. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah," He nodded, not really wanting to talk about it further. "Forget about it. It was a long time ago."

"I can't believe how much I've missed." she said, remorseful. It didn't seem real to think about how much the two of them had gone through in those twelve years, it seemed more than anyone went through in a lifetime, and yet they were both still going. "I mean, dad dying...the apocalypse...angels and demons...Dean going to hell...I can't imagine it."

Sam still wasn't quite sure why Dean had been so sudden to lie about everything that had happened in hell. When she had asked him, his response had been blunt, _'It's fine, I don't remember it anyway.', _and Sam hadn't pushed it, how could he? What was he supposed to do? Call Dean a liar in front of her and make him sit there and explain everything that had happened to him down there, make him confess to her everything he had done. But maybe that was why he didn't want her to know, because she was the only person who didn't. He knew, Castiel knew, Bobby knew—she was the only one who still thought he was the same person he had been before he had been ripped down to the pit. Maybe that was what he wanted, his little sister to still think of him as the person who only hurt bad things, never good, a man who would never lift a blade to torture an innocent soul. That had to be it.

"I guess you'd have to talk to Dean about that one," he shrugged, almost reluctant to even suggest it. "I don't know."

"Hm," It wasn't like she intended to, if he didn't remember what was the point? She didn't truthfully want to think about it. What she knew about them already was almost too much, she wasn't sure she could take hearing anymore. "Come on," she said, suddenly sounding a lot more upbeat. "I'll race you back to Bobby's."

Sam grinned at her, thankful of her changing the subject, and nodded. "You're on."

* * *

><p><em>Bobby's House — Later<em>

Sam came to a stop outside of the house and pulled a hand down his face, taking a deep breath. There was a thin sheen of sweat covering him, and he was out of breath, but he felt a lot better than he had done in a while. Lately, finding the time to head out for a run had been hard, especially with everything that had been going on, truthfully, he hadn't really had the energy. But taking the time out, away from everything else, he felt as though his stress had loosened, that things were a little better than what they were in reality.

Haley came to a stop behind him and nodded up to the door. "You go in," she said, reaching into her pocket. "I'm gonna have a cigarette."

Sam opened his mouth to say something, but he stopped, she didn't need it, he could tell. He thought about offering to stay with her, maybe she wanted to talk to someone, but he knew that she wanted to be on her own, that had been the whole reason she had intended to go running, to get away from everything—that house, him, Dean—it was suffocating her. She needed space.

With a small smile, he nodded. "Sure." he said, turning back to the house.

He headed inside and looked up as Dean almost immediately stepped into the living room, like he had been waiting on them to come back. He appeared much calmer than he had done when they had left, but there was still that look in his eyes, the stiffness of his body—he was still on edge. His eyes gave a quick, impatient scan off the room before they fell to Sam, and a frown formed on his face. "Where is she?" he asked, almost anxious.

If Sam hadn't known better, he could've sworn he'd seen fear flash through his features. He ignored it and nodded towards the door behind him. "Outside." he muttered. Dean simply nodded in acknowledgment before he made a move to leave the room, but Sam didn't move from where he stood in front of the door, blocking his path. "Dean," he warned. "She's just found out that her dad's dad, think about what we've told her this morning, she's had a lot to take in. Just, give her some space, you know. That's what she wanted when she tried to go out earlier, and you know that. She doesn't need us breathing down her neck all the time."

Dean regarded him for a moment, and nodded. "Right." he replied. He payed absolutely no attention to Sam's comments before reaching for the door handle and continuing on his way outside.

There was just something in the back of his mind that told him she needed him. Whether that was his imagination or not, he didn't know, but he couldn't turn his back on her. It was like he thought if he let her out of his sight for long enough she would be gone again. He had to know where she was, that she was okay, because in his mind she was fragile, breakable, and anything could happen to her. He knew it wasn't true, but he still couldn't shake it from his head. Somehow he just needed to protect her, he had to keep her safe. Because, with the limited answers he had as to what had happened to her, or what could happen to her, that was all he really could do.

Dean paused outside the door and looked out over the yard. His eyes scanned between the different busted up cars until he saw her leaning against the hood of the Impala, her back to him. He had a feeling that she really did want to be away from them, but he knew that she was hurting, and he couldn't leave her to hurt alone. He never had been able to.

"Running and smoking," he pondered, coming up behind her. "Bit of an odd combination." Haley turned to him and cracked a small smile at the comment. He quietly moved to sit beside her and sighed lightly. "When did you start that?" he asked, curious, nodding down to the cigarette held between her fingers.

Haley blew out the smoke from between her lips and looked down at her hand. "Few years ago," she muttered, giving a small, unconcerned shrug. "Can't really remember to be honest with you."

"Hm," Dean nodded. "Well, it's a bad habit." he said, there was a disapproving tone in his voice, she knew she had a lecture coming from him. "And the drugs?" She looked up at him at that, appearing a little surprised. "Sam told me, alright? What you said to him that night, when you were Roxy. What happened with that, Hales?" He suddenly sounded hurt. "I thought I taught you better than that."

Haley sighed, shaking her head, for a moment she looked like she wanted to laugh. "You did, Dean." she said, her voice more certain than it had been the whole day. "But...I don't know...I mean, it started off innocent and it just...got out of control, I guess. No one wakes up and says, you know what, I think I wanna be a drug addict...I never for it to go the way it did."

Dean wasn't sure anymore whether she was talking about drugs or her life there in general, but the look on her face told him not to push it. He didn't ask her to explain it, he didn't ask her any questions, he just sighed. "I'm sorry, Hales." he said softly, because he realized, she should never have been living that life at all. She should have been with them. "I should never have let that happen to you." he sighed. "You know, I replayed that whole thing over in my head a million times, and I thought, maybe if I'd done something different—"

"Don't, Dean." she stopped him before he could go any further. "Don't blame yourself."

"Twelve years..." he said slowly, suddenly none of it seemed real anymore. "Not a day went by that I didn't think about you. I screwed up, Haley, big time, and I let you down, and I'm sorry." He looked down at her, and his eyes found hers, filled with sorrow. "I'm just sorry."

Haley sighed, shaking her head slowly, and tossed the cigarette to the ground. "You know something I remember, Dean?" He looked up at her, but said nothing, curious. "I never felt shit when we were kids." His brow furrowed at the comment, as though he was confused as to what she meant. "I mean, with everything that we went through, with how we were raised, all the stuff we knew, the responsibility we had...it didn't matter, because you used to make it all okay again."

Dean wasn't sure what to say. "Haley—"

"No, I'm serious," she stopped him before he could try to say otherwise. "And when I was on my own, you know, I didn't have anyone there to make me feel like I was worth it, I didn't have anyone there to watch my back or tell me that it was all going to be okay. I got myself into the worst kind of job for your self-esteem and...I just got lost." She shrugged and looked back to him. "Because I didn't have you, or Sammy. With you two, it made sense. On my own, it didn't. You've done more for me than anyone else in this world, Dean, and whether it's been twelve years or not, I still trust you with my life, and I still have your back, alright? No question."

Dean stared at her, stunned, as though she had slapped him into silence. He didn't quite know how to answer her. Something about it all just reminded him of a younger Haley, when everything was fine and she had trusted him with everything in her, when she had treated him as though he had the answer to every question in the world. That trust was still there, and somehow, she still had the strength in her to believe in him. Somehow, things seemed a little better when she was around.

"You never changed, did you?" he pondered, his voice sounding far away. "You're still the same person you were twelve years ago, you just..." He paused and shook his head, searching for the right words, and then he knew. "You grew up. You know, I'm starting to see, I get that you're not just some punkass teenager anymore, but she's still in there somewhere."

Haley huffed a small laugh. "I'll take that as a compliment." she quipped. Dean smiled at her, the kind of smile that not many people got to see from him. It was fond, warm—outside of her and Sam it rarely saw the light of day—and it coaxed a small chuckle out of her. "And there was me thinking that was a look you reserved just for the Impala." She brought a hand up to her heart and threw him a sarcastic smile. "I'm honestly touched."

He laughed, honestly laughed, and gave her a playful shove in the arm. "Shut up."

That was how Dean and Haley did it—because they did not, under any circumstances, do the chick-flick heart to heart thing, _ever_. They never had. Or, at least, they claimed that they didn't. So when something happened—when things got serious and someone got hurt, when they had a fight and had to apologize to each other, when things got rough and they had no other choice—they would talk, they'd have their moment and then one of them would crack a joke. Before things got too deep and one of them started to get emotional, the other would make some lame comment to make them smile and they could move on. They could take that everything was good between them, that everything was once again going to be alright, and they could get back to normal. Or, normal for them.

But, Dean wasn't completely done with her, not yet. "Look, Hales, I know that this is a lot for you to take in, I do, but I need you to be okay." She looked up at him, frowning a little as though she wasn't completely sure what he meant. "I know you, and I know how you get. You can't start pushing us out now, you can't run away and try to pretend that you're okay with this if you're not. I need you here."

Haley smiled at him. "I know," she nodded. "And, I'm fine. Honestly."

Dean gave a short nod, although he didn't look too convinced. "Hey, I just want you to know, Hales, if we would have known, you know..." he sighed, remorseful. "We would have found you."

"Yeah," she said, because there wasn't a doubt in her mind that he was telling the truth, and she didn't understand why he assumed she would. "I know." She looked up at him, and she could see in his face that there was something else on his mind, something more that he wanted to say but he just couldn't seem to bring himself to do it. Frowning, she studied him. "What is it?" she pressed. He looked hesitant to say it. "Come on," she coaxed. "Dude, I'm not having another deep heart to heart talk with you anytime soon so you might as well spit it out now."

Dean thought for a moment—how was he supposed to ask his own sister if she wanted to leave him—and then he realized, did he really want to ask her at all? Did he really want to risk it? Was he really that sure already of what her answer would be? How was he supposed to know? He didn't know what kind of a life she had lived back in Wisconsin, he didn't know if it was a life worth going back to. But then, would she really have the heart to tell him that she didn't want to stay? Could he believe her even if she said she wanted to stay? After everything, he wouldn't blame her for a second for wanting to be away from hunting. Truth was, he wouldn't blame Sam, either.

He sighed. "It's just...I don't know...I mean..." he trailed off, shaking his head. "You can tell me, you know...if you wanna go back there, to Wisconsin." That comment seemed to take her by surprise. "You had a whole life there, a house, a job, friends...it's a lot to walk away from."

Haley stopped as something hit her—she had barely given a second thought to her life in Wisconsin since she had woken up there that morning. She hadn't even considered going back, it wasn't something that had even entered her head. Because, somehow, being with Sam and Dean, it felt like she was back in the one place she was supposed to be. Hunting was all she had ever wanted to do, it was the only life she had ever visioned for herself, and, had circumstances been different, she knew there was no way she would ever have left it, not willingly. Her heart was only in one side of her life—and she knew right away which one it was.

"Nah," she gave a soft chuckle. "I'm good here." But Dean didn't look to be convinced by her response. "Dude, come on, you gotta know I'd always choose you and Sam."

And he did, deep down he knew, because he would always pick them before anything else, too. "Are you sure you won't miss it?" he asked, curious. "I mean, you know...it's a pretty glamorous career compared to hunting, being a stripper, and all."

His tone was light, playful, and it made her smile. "We prefer the term exotic dancers." she deadpanned.

Dean rolled his eyes. "So, you were a stripper?" he said, smirking.

"Yes, Dean, I was a stripper." she sighed, amused. "Laugh all you want, go ahead."

"No, no," Dean shook his head, a smile on his face. "I'm not gonna laugh...Masseuse by day and stripper by night," he pondered. "That's good, I like it."

"Hey," She elbowed him in the arm at the clear mocking tone of his voice. "I told you, Dean, magic hands."

"Well," He chuckled. "I'll have to remember that next time I'm planning a Thai massage, save myself some cash."

"You're assuming I wouldn't charge you for it." she remarked, raising an eyebrow at him knowingly.

Dean just gave a short laugh. There was something about her being there that just made it better, aside from the worry, and the guilt he would never let go of, he felt content, as though his brother and sister were all he needed for everything to be alright again. As naive as he knew it to be, for a moment he allowed himself to believe that it was all okay, that they were all okay.

"It's, uh," he paused for a moment and cleared his throat, looking down at the dusty road beneath his boots. "It's nice having you back, Hales." he said, sincere. "And, you know, you don't need to be scared, okay? Of any of it. I won't let anything happen to you again." He looked to her, and his eyes found hers. "You've got my word on that."

Haley frowned at him for a second, and then quirked an eyebrow. "Who says I'm scared?" she challenged him. "I'm not scared."

"You come back to a world full of angels and demons out for your ass, and you're telling me you're not in the slightest bit freaked out by it all?" He scoffed, bemused. "I know when you're lying, kid."

"Oh," Haley looked up at him, curious. "Do you really?"

"Yeah, you see," He turned to face her properly and smirked. "You still do that eyebrow thing."

"What eyebrow thing?" She shook her head at him, defensive. "I don't have an eyebrow thing."

"Yes, you do. I've just seen you do it." he smirked. "You kink your left eyebrow when you lie, you always have done."

Haley shook her head, skeptical, and shoved him playfully in the chest. "Shut up."

He grinned at her. And right there, in that moment, Dean knew that everything was back the way it was supposed to be. He had Haley, and he had Sam, and that was all he needed. Everything else they could work out later, because, whatever it was—Cas, angels, demons, hunting, the apocalypse, Michael, Lucifer—it didn't matter.

They were finally a family again, the way it was supposed to be.

* * *

><p><em>Thank you so much for reading! <em>

_This chapter ended up getting way out of hand, it finished on nearly 20,000 words so I decided to split it in half, haha! And I know it's still really long, but I honestly couldn't post one that long, you'd be falling asleep halfway though! ;-) _

_New plan for chapters now since this one was split—next chapter is going to be shorter than this, and Castiel is coming back! I know a lot of you are still a little on the fence with Cas in this one, not sure what he's up to, but you'll definitely know next chapter. So you'll find out more about what went down between him and Haley twelve years earlier, and of course there will be more Dean/Sam/Haley stuff. And then back on with season five and back to hunting! _

_Also, I was sent a PM the other day asking for a oneshot in Haley Grace Winchester for when Sam tells her that he wants to go to college—so watch out for that as well if you're interested._

_Hope you enjoyed and don't forget to leave a review and let me know what you thought. _

_Have a great weekend! :) __Next update will be Friday!_


	11. Guardian Angel

_As always I want to start off by saying thank you so much for your continued support!_

_Thank you for the reviews/follows/favourites and for reading! _

_Hope you enjoy! :-)_

* * *

><p><span><strong>Saving Grace<strong>

**Chapter Eleven: Guardian Angel**

_The Next Morning — Bobby's House — 07:46 am. _

Haley released a small, tired sigh as she once again turned over in bed, this time choosing to lie on her back. She pulled a hand roughly down her face and allowed her arm to drop heavily to the mattress beside her, exhausted. Her entire brain was fried, but somehow she just couldn't manage to switch off for long enough to fall asleep. She had been so wrapped up in her own thoughts she hadn't even realised how much time had passed by, or how long she had been lying there just staring blankly into space—it was almost as if she had forgotten to will herself to pass out.

And, no matter what she told them, everything that Sam and Dean had told her the previous day scared the hell out of her, of course it did. She had been dropped down into the middle of an apocalypse, she had an army of demons out for her ass, an army of angels ready to swarm down and attack her, and on top of that she had learned of her own father's death, that her brothers had died, over and over, Dean had done time in hell, Sam had been addicted to demon blood—the amount of pain her brothers had been through over the past twelve years while she had been gone, it hurt to think about. All of it hurt. But she wouldn't change the fact that she was back there with them, not for anything. And she wouldn't let their past scare her off.

Because somehow, despite how her eyes ached for sleep and her body whined for rest, she couldn't help the soft smile that held on her face. It had been a long time since she had felt as safe, as protected, as she did in that house. It had been even longer since she had been somewhere with her family surrounding her, people who truly cared about her in the way that her brothers did. And it had been a long, long time since she had felt as at home as she did right there.

It was at that thought she heard a loud crash coming from somewhere below her, she presumed the kitchen, and the sound of Dean's deep voice rhyming off a string of curses, soon followed by the sound of Sam's lower and much calmer voice no doubt chastising him for whatever he had just smashed. She could picture it—Dean standing there, eyebrows raised, blaming Sam for whatever he had just broken himself, and Sam smirking at his brother, shaking his head in amusement. She let out a small chuckle, the thought bringing back memories of happier times for them.

And that was when she realised, she hadn't even heard them get up. She hadn't even been aware that it was daylight outside. It was morning. For the first time she realised that the sun had risen in the sky and was lighting up the small room around her. She hadn't been able to sleep at all, too consumed with her own thoughts. It was the first time in a long time that she hadn't slept, and she knew exactly why that was, but that was at the back of her thoughts by then—it was the last thing on her mind. As well as that, she knew it was the last thing on her brother's minds, too.

Slowly, Haley found the strength to push herself into a sitting position and she breathed out a sigh, rubbing at her eyes as if she could push the tiredness away. Sometimes, if she tried hard enough, she managed to do just that. She focused on other things and pushed the thoughts to the back of her mind, and for a while she was able to forget them and carry on. There were more pressing things on her mind than the fact that she was tired, and it didn't take long for those things to get back into the main focus. She headed downstairs into the kitchen to find Sam and Dean sitting at the table, as if nothing had happened between them. Dean's face was hidden behind a newspaper, an empty plate sitting in front of him, while Sam sat across from him, his attention focused solely on the half empty coffee mug in his hands. She dropped down into the seat beside him and gave a soft sigh as she did, cracking her neck.

"Morning." Sam was the first to break the silence there, and he offered her a small smile, as if he was unsure what kind of mood she was going to be in.

He understood that everything they had told her the previous day had been a lot for her to take in all at once, especially the fact that their dad was dead, but she had seemed to take it all okay, better than he had expected her too, anyway. He wondered if maybe she had taken it a little too well, and perhaps she was going to react more once it had taken it's time to sink in properly. They would have to wait and see, that was all they could do.

Haley gave a small smile in return. "Morning." she replied quietly, her eyes never leaving the table in front of her as she spoke, like she couldn't bring herself to face him.

Sam looked over to Dean, concerned, but his brother didn't seem to be listening to either of them, his face still hidden away behind the paper. He could see just by looking at her that she hadn't slept, there were dark circles beneath her eyes, slightly reddened by tiredness. He sighed, he wanted to ask her if she was alright, but he knew she had to be getting sick of answering the same question over and over by then. But at the same time he wanted to help her, he wanted to make sure she knew they were both there for her.

"You just woken up?" Haley looked up at him, as if she hadn't been expecting the question, but nodded all the same, never saying a word. Sam just continued to watch her, choosing not to drop it just yet, and narrowed his eyes. He clearly didn't buy it. "You sleep alright?" he pressed.

Haley simply nodded again, impassive. "Yeah," she muttered. "Awesome."

"Liar." Dean suddenly commented from behind his newspaper.

Both Sam and Haley looked up at the voice, a little surprised, neither of them having thought he had been paying attention to them. But still, as they both watched him, as if waiting for him to say something more, he never took his eyes away from the printed words in front of him. It was like he hadn't spoken at all, as if he hadn't been expecting a reaction from either of them.

But Haley frowned, curious at the remark. "What?" she pushed.

"You haven't just woken up, and you haven't slept _awesome_, as you put it." he clarified, mimicking her voice as he flipped to the next page, giving a quick glance between them as he did. "I know for a fact, Hales, when you've just woken up you wander around like some half-dead homicidal zombie until you've had some form of caffeine." His eyes finally lifted to look at her properly, for the first time since she had walked into the room, and a look appeared on his face as if to tell her that his suspicions were automatically confirmed. "You're way too put together to have just woken up."

Haley blinked, admittedly a little thrown by his comments. Sometimes she forgot just how well he knew her habits, the ones that had never really left her. "Wow." she stated simply, giving a short nod as if it couldn't have bothered her less that he knew her better than she knew herself. "All that deduction before you've even put down your paper. Nice work, Sherlock, you're on a roll this morning, aren't you?"

Dean finally dropped the paper down beside his empty plate and shot her a look, somewhat smug. "Well, it's a gift." he told her simply. "So, what's up?" he asked, his voice a little more serious than it had been.

Haley scoffed. "Nothing's up." she muttered, leaning back in her chair. "I think the day I get dropped into the middle of everything I have been, the day I find out everything you told me yesterday, when I come to terms with the fact I've been living another life the past twelve years, after everything that's happened this week...I should be entitled to a night where I can't sleep."

"Yeah," Dean nodded slowly, and he almost felt a little stupid for thinking otherwise. He sat forwards to get a better look at her, his face softening. "Look, we know that it's a lot for you to take in all at once, but you needed to know, Haley. We can't afford to keep you in the dark over stuff like that."

Haley shook her head. Truthfully, she was more relieved that they had taken the road of telling her everything, rather than the one where they told her nothing thinking that they were keeping her safer by not freaking her out. They all knew that was dangerous. One option hurt, but the other could potentially be deadly. "I know, I mean, it's fine." She forced up a small, unconvincing smile. "I'm fine."

Sam and Dean shared a look, one that proved neither of them were convinced by the tough front she was putting on, but neither pressed it, because they both knew that was exactly what they would do in her position. They were probably right when they suggested that she just needed time to adjust to everything she had been told. Everything would be fine in a few days, they just needed to get back into their old routine. And slowly, gradually, that was what they were doing.

"I'm gonna head out and get us some breakfast." Sam said simply, pushing himself to stand. He paused for a moment, his eyes falling to the empty plate in front of his brother before he looked to his face and raised an eyebrow, expectant. "I suppose you still want breakfast bringing back?"

"Most important meal of the day, Sammy." he remarked. "_Both_ of them."

Sam just rolled his eyes at him. "Where do you even put it?" he muttered, shaking his head slowly. "I won't be long, alright?"

Both Dean and Haley gave him a short nod, as if to acknowledge his words without having to answer, and watched as he headed out of the kitchen, grabbing the keys to the Impala from the side as he passed. It was strange how normal things felt, there was nothing strange about it. Sure, it took a little adjusting to them all being back with each other, but it didn't feel as though they had ever been apart. They just seemed to fall back into place with each other, as though nothing had ever been different.

"Just so you know," Dean spoke, gaining her attention once more. "If you're ever up all night, for whatever reason, if you don't wanna be alone, you don't have to be. You can wake us up." His words were serious, nothing about them joking. "And, we'll, I don't know, get pizza or something, watch a movie. If you want."

Haley nodded. They both knew it was something he didn't have to tell her. When things had gotten rough when they had been younger, or one of them had been upset or had a problem, they wouldn't have thought twice about waking each other up for a bit of company. He had lost count of the times either he or Haley, or sometimes Sam, would wake them up for something, even if it was just for someone to stay awake with, and they had ended up watching bad horror movies with a pizza. It was how the three of them had done things.

"Thanks, Dean." she smiled, grateful. "I'm gonna go for a smoke, alright?. Won't be long."

"Right." he muttered. For a moment he was going to comment, to make some remark about how she shouldn't be doing it, but instead he offered up a small smile, deciding against it, for now.

Haley grabbed her jacket from the back of the chair Sam had been sitting in and headed out of the kitchen, pulling the door closed behind her as she stepped into the living room. She headed through the room towards the door, but something stopped her halfway.

"Haley." A voice sounded from behind her. She turned to see Bobby sitting behind his desk, looking over at her with a frown fixed on his face. She had been that lost in her own thoughts she hadn't even realised he had been there. "Hold on a second," he said, serious. "Sit down." He nodded to the seat across from him. "I wanna ask you something, and I want you to be honest with me."

Haley narrowed her eyes a little, curious. She wasn't sure what he could be talking about. But then, Bobby usually had a talent at figuring out something was going on with her before she even knew it herself. Slowly, trying to work out what he could mean before she got there, she moved towards the seat opposite him.

"What's up?" she asked, tentative, lowering herself to sit down.

Bobby continued to frown. "What's going on with you?" he asked. It was a rare thing for him ever to use a voice so serious with her.

"What?" she frowned, genuinely confused as to what he was getting at.

But the concern never faltered in his features, his eyes were hard and refused to buy into anything from her that wasn't the truth. "Don't play dumb with me, kid." he chastised. And for a moment she thought to argue, because she really wasn't playing dumb, but he continued before she had the chance to even open her mouth. "You're out of it. No one sleeps as much as you are unless they're taking something. And I wanna know what."

Haley shifted, suddenly uncomfortable. For a moment, she wasn't sure how he had worked that out, or when. And then she thought, who really fell asleep in a car with two strange men? Who really slept through a kidnapping? Who slept through being carried around the way she had that night? Who was really that okay with what had gone on with her? Who was really that numb to everything? Honestly, she was surprised Sam and Dean hadn't said something more about it. Obviously he hadn't realised she had been up all night, but then, there was a reason for that, and it wasn't what she was telling Sam and Dean, at least no the whole of it.

Then, she had never been able to get anything past Bobby. She had never successfully lied to him, not that she had tried all that often, but it didn't stop her attempt this time. It was the only defense she had. "I don't know what you're talking about." she muttered, fighting to keep her voice upbeat, but that also failed. "I'm fine."

And by the look on his face, she could tell, Bobby knew, and she was busted. "You're taking something, Haley." he stated bluntly. "And Sam and Dean might be too wound up with everything else to have noticed, but not me. I wanna know what's going on with you."

Haley sighed, shaking her head as if to ask him not to make her talk. "Bobby—"

"Tell me." he pushed. "You never used to sleep like that. Hell, you barely used to sleep at all. I'm not stupid, I know you have something going on." He paused for a moment, eyeing her suspiciously. "Is it the drugs?" Her eyes snapped up, had Sam told everyone? "Are you still taking them? Because if you are, and you need help, you need to tell me now. You're not in a state to be hunting if you're on something, kid, and you know that."

"No," she replied, almost immediately. "Look, no, of course I'm not on drugs. Like I told them, I'm clean. I have been for a long time."

There was a truth in that, and he really did believe her. But there was still something. "So, what?" he pushed, clearly not giving up. "Hm? And don't try telling me it's nothing, 'cause I know better."

"Bobby—" She tried again, but once Bobby was worried about something there was no escape until he knew otherwise.

"Please, Haley," he stopped her before she could deny it. "Just, be honest with me here. Either that, or I'll ask your brothers, see what they have to say about it."

That seemed to grab her attention more than anything else he had said, and that was when he knew he had her beat. No way could she have Sam and Dean knowing, they would never let her out of their sight again. Not a chance. She glanced back towards the kitchen, satisfied that Dean wasn't about to enter the room, and sighed, defeated.

"Alright, you win." she muttered, a little bitter. She reached into the pocket of the jacket still held in her hand and pulled out a small bottle of pills from it. Begrudgingly, she handed them over to him, never managing to make eye contact.

It clearly hadn't been what he had expecting from her, but he took them all the same. He frowned down at the bottle, glancing over her other name and address, down to the name. _Viibryd._ He frowned for a moment, thinking it through, before he realised what they were. No wonder she was always knocked out. "These are some pretty strong pills, Haley." he said, and she didn't miss the clear amount of worry that had found its way to his tone.

"Yeah," she scoffed and took them back, shoving them into her jacket before anyone else had the chance to see them. "Well, there was an..." she paused, thinking of the right word. "An incident."

Bobby raised his eyebrows. "An incident?" he repeated, not sure what she could mean. He had a suspicion, he just hoped that it was wrong.

Haley gave a dry laugh, like it couldn't have been less important to her. "I tried to kill myself," she muttered. "It was a while back now, but..." She shrugged. "You know...whatever."

He looked horrified, to the extent she couldn't even look at him anymore. "You what?"

"Look," She sighed, shaking her head. "I really don't wanna talk about it. I'm over it, honestly. I just take what my doctor tells me to take. It's not a big deal, honest."

And it wasn't. Not to her. Maybe to other people, like her doctor, those who didn't know her. But she knew her. She knew herself better than anyone, and she knew she was past it. It had all been a dark time, but that was all it had been. Just a time. One that had long ago passed. One that she wanted to let go of and forget. And, for the first time in a long time, the first night she had braved herself not to take the pills, she felt more awake than she had done in months. It had to stop, she knew that, she was done with it. They weren't something she could take hunting. But for the last few months of her life there, they had made everything easier, because they made her numb—the whole point had been they allowed her not to care. But that had to change. And that was the start of it.

"Just," Haley looked up at him, her eyes finding his, pleading. "Promise me you won't tell Sam and Dean about them."

Bobby sighed. "Haley—"

"You know what they're like, Bobby." She almost begged him. "I can't take them worrying about me anymore, look at what Dean's like now, imagine if he knew that. They can't be breathing down my neck all the time, not when they're stuck in the middle of an apocalypse. I'm fine, honestly. But they can't know."

Bobby closed his eyes, thinking it through. For a moment, she thought he was going to argue, that he was going to tell them, but his face softened the slightest bit. "If this becomes a thing, if it's a problem, you tell me straight away." he warned, voice hard. "You pick up the phone and you call me."

"I will," she nodded. "I promise."

"Alright," he sighed, not too sure he was satisfied, but he knew at least one of them there had to treat her like an adult. One of them had to show that they really did believe she was okay. And he did believe her, because she couldn't lie to him. She had lived there for a month, and in that time he had learned every single expression she had, she could lie to him as well as she could to Dean. "Okay. Fine."

Haley smiled, truly thankful to him, and nodded. "Thanks, Bobby."

He waved it off as though it was nothing, and nodded for her to carry on with whatever it was she had been doing before. Which she did. With another smile she pushed herself up and continued on her way outside, never looking back at him.

The air outside was cool as it whispered past her face, yet it seemed like a much needed relief from the somehow overcrowded feeling of the house. She wasn't too sure what it was, but she felt trapped, and confused. There was so much that she still didn't understand, so much that had been weighed down on her shoulders, as though she could take all of the pain her brother's carried along with her, too. In a way, she was. There was so much that Sam and Dean just couldn't explain to her, because they didn't have the answers she wanted, either. She didn't understand why she was there, or why she hadn't been there in the first place, why Castiel had done what he had, none of it made sense. Why would an angel want to help her, of all people? Why would an angel save her the way he had done? There was no one she could really turn to for answers, and that made her feel alone, in a way she never thought she could feel with the three people around her who she would die for in a second.

There was a strange sound from somewhere behind her—something that resembled fluttering—it was soft, not all that alarming, but the unexpectedness of it made her jump a little all the same. More surprised than anything else, she turned around and almost jumped backwards when she found herself standing face to face with Castiel, barely inches separating them. He stood in front of her, expressionless and blank, just looking at her as though waiting for her to speak first.

"Jesus," she breathed out, holding a hand to her heart just to prove the shock of it. She composed herself slightly and released a deep breath at the utterly confused look on his face—that had to be the one Dean had been trying to explain to her—it was as though he didn't understand her surprise. Feeling a little awkward at the now heavy silence, Haley pushed up a small smile. "Hey."

Castiel narrowed his eyes a little, tilting his head to the side. "Sorry," he replied simply, the frown that was furrowed at his brow never faltered. "I, uh, I didn't mean to startle you, Haley."

She shook her head. "No, it's fine. You'll just have to give me a few days to get used to you doing that." she quipped, and he nodded, dubious, because he knew for a fact that Dean had once said the very same thing, and he still wasn't used to it. "If you're looking for Dean, he's inside." she added lightly, like she didn't see a big deal with it.

"I didn't come here for Dean." he replied bluntly.

"Oh, well then, you're out of luck," she said with a small, apologetic shrug. "Sam just left. He won't be long, though."

Castiel watched as she moved to sit down on the porch steps in front of him, still looking up at him through the sunlight. She reached into her jacket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, taking one out and raising it to her lips. He observed as she raised a hand to shield the tip of it from the wind and lit it with her lighter.

"Actually," he spoke slowly, like he wasn't sure what to say to her, confused as to why she seemed to think he was there to see her brothers but not her. "I came to see you."

"Huh." she frowned, admittedly a little taken aback, especially after the last time they had been together. "Okay, what's up?"

Tentative, he slowly moved to sit down on the porch steps beside her. What was he supposed to say? Maybe he should have thought it through before he had shown up there. Maybe he should have spoken to Dean or Sam first, although he was apprehensive that they were still angry with him. He knew it was better not to provoke Dean when he was angry, especially if his family were involved. One thing that Castiel had learned about the Winchesters was that, whatever had happened, whoever had been involved, no matter what the circumstances, family came before everything. And, in that case, he knew that meant him. Whatever he and them had been through, no matter what friendship they had, if they thought there was even a chance he had hurt Haley—even if it wasn't true—they wouldn't give him the time of day. He had to give them time to calm before he tried again.

"I came to tell you I'm sorry, Haley." Castiel said, looking out over the driveway in front of them, never blinking, his face still scrunched up into a tight and thoughtful frown. "For everything," he clarified, as if he sensed her confusion at his words. "Dean was right."

Haley shook her head slowly, breathing out the smoke from between her lips. "Don't worry about it, Cas—" She suddenly stopped herself and raised an eyebrow at him. "It is Cas, right?" He looked to her, confused at the question. "Or is it Castiel? I know what Dean's like for giving out unwanted nicknames...he used to call me brat."

Castiel found himself smiling a little, no one had ever asked him that question before. "Cas is fine."

"Right," she paused for a moment, as if trying to remember what she had been saying before that. "Anyway, it's fine. Really."

"Haley," he sighed, anything but convinced. The more he had thought about it the past few days, the more he had realized how much damage he had really done. "I took away your whole life. Every memory you ever had."

"I got them back, didn't I?" she countered, giving a small shrug like it didn't bother her. "Cas, you saved my life that night, I remember, I was dying." He looked up to her at that. "And, you know something, as far as I'm concerned, I'd rather have been living another life for twelve years than spent twelve years dead." She offered him a small, reassuring smile, but he still looked conflicted. "I mean it, don't worry about it. It's done, I'm back."

There was a thoughtful look on his face as he considered her words for a long moment, as if unsure whether he should believe them or not. She didn't sound to be lying, she didn't sound angry about what he had done, not like her brothers clearly were, she almost sounded thankful to him. He didn't understand it. Why wasn't she mad? Why wasn't she shouting at him for what he had done? He had taken away her life, even though he had been trying to help. So why didn't she see it like that? She wasn't afraid of him, even after everything that had happened, she was more than comfortable to sit there beside him, completely at ease. He remembered how wary Sam and Dean had been around him when they had first met, how strange they had found it all to be. But she seemed perfectly okay with him.

"You, uh, you said that your orders were to kill me, right?" she asked him when he didn't reply, looking over at him curiously.

Castiel frowned. "You want to know why heaven would order you to be killed?" he said, more of a statement than a question.

"No," she shook her head. "It's not that." In a way, it was, because of course she wanted to know that, too, but there was something more pressing at her mind. One thing that she was even more confused about. "It's just, you said that you couldn't go against your orders, and from what Sam told me orders sound like they're a pretty big deal upstairs. So, why didn't you just kill me?"

Castiel frowned at her, like he was unsure of his answer. Truthfully, he was. "I don't know." he admitted, his voice low. "I didn't really understand what it was that happened, I still don't. But I never wanted to kill you, it didn't seem right. Heaven wasn't supposed to do things like that. So, I kept you hidden from the angels, and I lied."

"You lied?" she repeated, dubious. "Just like that?"

He nodded. "I wasn't even aware that I could disobey my orders until that night." he said. "Although, after spending some time with your brothers, I've realised that disobeying orders from heaven isn't as hard as I'd thought."

"Hm," she huffed a laugh. "Yeah, Sam and Dean have that effect on people." she quipped, and her voice became serious again. "You would've gotten killed for that, right? If they'd have found about me? That I was still alive."

Castiel sighed, unsure of what to say. He knew that yes, he would have been dealt with had the angels found out, whether that would have been death or something more severe he didn't know, but right there, it didn't matter. She didn't need to know. "It doesn't matter." he said simply. "I've done worse since then. I'm sure there are many angels out there that wish me dead by now."

"Yeah," Haley nodded. "Dean mentioned that. What did you manage to do to warrant a death sentence?" she asked, genuinely curious.

"I rebelled." he replied bluntly.

"For Sam and Dean?" she asked, but somewhere in the back of her mind she already knew the answer.

And then it all seemed to make a lot more sense. That was why he was there, because he was on their side, not heaven's. When she had asked Dean, how could they really trust him if all the other angels were so bad, his answer had been simple; 'Don't worry about Cas, he's one of the good guys.'. That was why he had helped them, why he was still helping them. And that was suddenly how she was sure she could trust him. For someone who had given so much for her family, how could she be afraid of him?

Castiel gave a short nod, as though he didn't really want to give an answer. "But I was already walking a tight line before that." he reasoned, as if he assumed she thought he blamed her brothers for what had happened.

Haley tilted her head to the side, curious. "How come?"

He gave a thoughtful frown at her question, finding the best way to word it. "My superiors had begun to question my sympathies."

"Your sympathies?" she repeated, raising her eyebrows.

Castiel nodded. "They thought I was getting too close to the humans in my charge—mainly your brother." he stated. "They thought that I was beginning to express emotions."

That brought a deeper frown to her face. "And, that's a bad thing up there, right?"

"The angels see emotions as a doorway to doubt," he explained. "If you have doubt then you don't have complete faith. And, up in heaven, angels are killed for not having faith."

"Wow," she commented, a little taken aback by the brutality of it. "That's...I mean, I thought heaven was supposed to be like..." She paused and shook her head. Truth was she hadn't ever given much thought to the subject. But even she knew it wasn't supposed to be like that. "Well, not like that, anyway."

Castiel nodded. He knew that. He knew heaven wasn't supposed to be the way it was. It wasn't how the humans thought it to be, it wasn't how he thought it ought to be. There was something wrong there, something damaged, and being down on earth with humanity had made him slowly realise that. He had realised the night heaven had ordered an innocent girl to be murdered that there was something broken in what had once been so pure. He realised when heaven had ordered Sam and Dean to do things they really didn't want to do, and when heaven had harmed them for their end results. He had realised in the way he watched the Winchester's lives being toyed with for an apocalypse that shouldn't have anything to do with them. Heaven was cruel, deceitful, corrupt—it had become everything it shouldn't be—heaven was broken.

"Heaven is about obedience." he said slowly, his voice suddenly much darker. "There isn't any choice or free will, not like there is here."

"Must be hard." she commented, and then frowned as the other side of it occurred to her. "Or easier."

"It was hard at first, I thought it would all be so simple." He shook his head and thought back to the first time he had gone against heaven's orders, when he had saved her. He had thought that would be the last time, he hadn't dared do it again until he met Sam and Dean. "Your brothers can be quite persuasive. They taught me that it wasn't wrong to make my own choices, and then it got easier."

"It's not fair," she sighed, remorseful. "You shouldn't be in this mess because of our family. I owe you a lot, for everything you've done."

Castiel shook his head at her. "It doesn't matter," he replied, honestly. "You don't owe me anything."

"Of course it matters," Haley countered. "I mean, you saved my life. You pulled Dean out of hell. You full on rebelled against heaven to help them out. I definitely owe you something."

"You don't owe me anything." he repeated, his voice sincere.

Haley turned to look at him, and her eyes found his for a moment. She could see the sincerity and honesty as he spoke, and knew that he really didn't think it to be anything special what he had done for their family. But she thought different. Outside of Bobby, no one had ever done so much to help their family before. She had never known anyone else willing to risk what he had. He had literally turned his back on everything he had known, his entire family and existence, to help Sam and Dean. And even if it didn't seem important to him, it was to her.

"Hey, uh," Haley's mind fell to something else. "I wanted to ask you something."

"Of course." he said, curious, however looking grateful at the change of subject.

Haley cleared her throat, as if feeling slightly awkward. "I have this thing...it's...um..." Rather than try to explain, she decided to show him. She put out her cigarette and pushed herself to her feet before she pulled up her shirt to show him the markings on her skin. Castiel's eyes lingered there for a long moment, his face expressionless. "You know anything about it?"

Castiel's eyes narrowed. "It's a protection sigil." he replied bluntly, and she dropped her shirt back to the top of her jeans as she sat down again. "I, uh, it works to hide you from angels." She could see him hesitate with his next comment. He cleared his throat and looked away from her. "I put it there."

It was as though he finally expected her to get angry, like he was waiting for it, but it didn't happen. Haley simply raised her eyebrows at the information, like it wasn't too much of a big deal. "You did, huh?"

He nodded. "It was the only way I could be sure the angels wouldn't realise that you were alive. I would've asked if—"

"If I hadn't been dying from blood loss," She finished for him, and Castiel nodded. "Yeah, I get it."

Haley chuckled to herself, shaking her head like it all amused her. "What?" he frowned, he had expected her reaction to everything to be a lot different.

"Nothing, I just—" She stopped and looked to him again. "You know, the last thing I ever thought I'd meet would be an angel."

"You never believed?" he stated, more as though he already knew her answer than he was asking her. "You're like Dean was, no faith."

It was true, she had never had faith, in any of it. She had always found it too hard to believe that, with all the crap she and her family had been through, and with the amount of evil that there was in the world, there was any kind of god out there watching over them. And for a long, long time, Dean had been exactly the same as her. The world had seemed to dark for there to be anything good in it, it had seemed too evil for there to be any hope of angels or heaven. But even now, from what she had heard from her brothers, even with the angels around it didn't seem to have gotten much brighter.

"You know," she shrugged. "From what Dean's told me about them, you sound like the only decent one up there."

All the other angels seemed determined to hurt them. There were the angels who had ordered her to be killed, the ones who had all but tortured Sam and Dean into saying yes to being the vessels of the apocalypse, the ones who had left Bobby confined to a wheelchair, the ones who still wanted to find and kill her. Castiel appeared to be the only member of heaven who didn't want them to suffer.

"A lot of the angels are very...driven." Castiel said, almost bitterly. "They believe that the apocalypse has to happen, that it can't be changed." He looked to her, a serious frown on his face. "You need to take care of yourself, Haley. There will be a lot of angels looking for you right now, and demons. They will hurt you if they find you."

Haley shrugged, brushing it off. "I'll be fine," she assured. "Don't worry about me." But Castiel didn't look convinced. Because Dean's words still rang in his mind, they hadn't left him since he had heard them, '_How about you do something to protect her? Her life shouldn't be in danger because of your family._' He couldn't afford for anything else to happen to her now, not with the Winchester brothers already becoming so distrustful and angry towards him. But Haley didn't seem to be concerned, about anything. "Dude," she smiled at him when he didn't reply. "Seriously, I'm good. I should get back in."

Castiel nodded as she rose to stand, but she could see his hesitance to go anywhere near Dean. "I should be going, too." he mumbled, standing to face her.

"Yeah," Haley nodded. "I'll see you around, Cas." With that she turned to head back into the house, but stopped. "Oh, and Cas?" She turned back to look at him. "Don't worry about Dean, alright? He'll come around."

He offered her a small smile, as if wanting to take the reassurance but knowing he couldn't, and nodded.

There was something about him that intrigued her, and she wasn't sure what it was. Maybe it was just the fact that he was an angel, or maybe because he was the one who had saved her life and the reason she had lived the life she had for the past twelve years. Or maybe it was something more. She didn't know. She barely had time to think about it before he vanished right in front of her eyes.

As she turned to head back inside she noticed the Impala coming down the driveway, and she stopped, waiting. The car cruised to a halt before the house and Sam climbed out, with two large bags of food in his hand. He gave her a smile as he slammed the car door behind himself and headed up to the house. "Hey." he greeted.

Haley smiled. "Hey."

Sam followed her into the house, where Dean was now sitting in the living room, flicking through the channels on the television with little enthusiasm. He turned it off as they entered and dropped the remote down beside himself on the couch. Sam tossed him one of the bags, which he caught easily, and sat down heavily into the armchair beside him, while Haley moved to sit down on the couch next to Dean.

She gave a small sigh, knowing that she needed to say something, because no one else was going to bring it up. Not again. They were all itching to get out of the house, and they all knew it. But somehow none of them had spoke up about it, not yet. Haley cleared her throat and looked down at the table in front of the couch. "So, uh," She paused, and Sam and Dean looked to her. "Are we gonna sit around here forever, or are we gonna get out and do some hunting?"

Dean visibly tensed at the question, and stopped chewing for a moment, looking to his brother for help. But Sam gave him nothing, as if to tell him he was calling the shots. "You think you're ready for that?" he asked, doubtful. "You've been out of the game for a while, Hales."

"So," She shrugged. "It can't have changed that much. Point, shoot, salt and burn, right?"

Dean smiled at her words. "No, that's not what I mean, I—" But he stopped himself, because what did he mean? She was at just as much risk to the angels wherever she was, in fact, she was probably safer on the move. And it wasn't like he thought she couldn't hunt, because he knew that she could. Truthfully, he didn't know what he was scared of happening anymore. He gave a short sigh and shook his head, defeated. "Alright, you know what, fine. We'll take a hunt."

Sam looked skeptical. "Are you sure, Dean?" He hadn't been expecting him to cave like that. "I mean, it's not exactly like it's safe for her out there."

"Well, she's with us," he reasoned, giving his brother a small shrug. "We'll keep her safe." Sam still didn't look to be convinced, the frown holding on his face. He had wanted Dean to back off, to give her some space, but that didn't mean he wanted to throw her in at the deep end straight away. "It's, uh, funny you should mention hunting, actually. I had a call while you were out."

"You did?" Sam raised his eyebrows, curious. "From who?"

"Martin." Dean replied, his attention turning back to his food.

"Martin?" Sam repeated, shaking his head, lost and then it clicked. "Wait, Martin, as in dad's friend? Martin Creaser?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah, said he could use a hand on a case up in Oklahoma." he told them. "Didn't say much else. I said we'd give him a call back."

"I'm in." Haley spoke up, her voice hopeful, but she could tell that Sam was far from being on board.

"Dean," Sam warned. "We talked about this."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Haley stopped them, because she could tell by the looks on their faces that she had clearly missed something somewhere. "Talked about what?" she pressed.

Dean sighed. She had a right to know. "Look, you know they need me and Sam, right? We're dumb and dumber's vessels."

"Yeah?" Haley raised an eyebrow, as though she wasn't following. "What's your point?"

"Well, there's a pretty good chance that's why you're back." he sighed. "They're gonna use you to get to us, Hales." There was nothing but guilt in his voice. "You're target one right now."

"Yeah," She nodded, frowning at him like she couldn't work out what his problem was. "And, your point is?"

"What do you mean what's my point?" he snapped. "Are you even listening to me?"

"Yeah...I was listening. Angels bring me back...I'm target one...you're worried about me...what's new?" Dean just glared at her, and a small smile formed on her face. "You think I haven't worked it out for myself yet?" She scoffed. "Come on, give me some credit."

Sam frowned. "Well then, you get why it's not safe?" he said. He didn't understand how she was so laid back about it.

"Yeah, no, I get that perfectly." she said simply. "So, are we going, or what?"

Dean smirked to himself and ruffled her hair. "That's my girl." he grinned. "Not gonna let a few angels scare you out of kicking some ass, are ya, Hales?"

"Duh," she smirked. "I'm gonna go get ready."

Sam and Dean watched as she stood from the couch and headed off upstairs. There was a small smile on Dean's face as he looked back to his brother. "Crazy girl." he muttered.

"You sure about this, Dean?" Sam asked, still unsure about her going straight back to hunting. It had been twelve years, after all. He didn't think he was over reacting. "Angels can be pretty tricky, I mean—"

"Hey, she'll be fine." Dean cut him off, his tone reassuring. "We'll just, I don't know, make sure that we keep an eye on her. Sammy, I've let her down once, I am not going to let anything happen to her again, alright? Not a chance. The second she's in danger we get her the hell out of there, whether it's angels or demons or otherwise."

Sam sighed, giving a short nod. "Yeah, you're right."

* * *

><p><em>Several Hours Later — Impala<em>

Haley fell back into consciousness at the sound of someone calling her name. She wasn't fully awake and without even realising she was doing it, she frowned as the deep voice repeated her name, disorientated. They sounded as though they were off somewhere in the distance, but she couldn't quite work out where. "Haley." The voice said again. And it was then that she felt someone's hand shaking her thigh gently. "Hales," They pushed. "Wake up."

With that, she came around. Slowly, and almost reluctant, she opened her eyes to the dark car around her, now completely aware of her surroundings. Dean's eyes were flickering between her and the road, there was an old rock song playing softly from the radio, and the sound of Sam's steady breathing sounded from the backseat as he slept.

"When the hell did you become such a heavy sleeper?" Dean asked, she thought maybe to break the silence, but there was a little concern in his words.

Haley groaned in discomfort as she sat up a little straighter, choosing to ignore his question, and rubbed a hand over her eyes, as if she could wake herself up again. "What's up?" she grumbled, still appearing half asleep to him.

Dean scoffed at the sight, shaking his head a little in amusement, she obviously wasn't happy about being woken up. "Your phone's been going off none stop for like ten minutes, at least." he said, returning his gaze to the empty stretch of road ahead for a moment. "Thought maybe you might wanna get it."

Haley didn't seem to fully register his words. "What?" A frown furrowed at her brow, only to fade once the sound of her phone vibrating from her jacket sounded again. Hesitant, even to a degree that Dean noticed, she reached down to the floor of the car in front of her and pulled it out of the pocket, her green eyes regarding the screen for a moment.

Dean glanced at her out of the corner of his eye as she sat back in her seat and sighed, the phone still lighting up in her hand. "You, uh, you wanna take that?" he asked, curious. If it was privacy she wanted he was more than willing to pull over and let her get out.

Haley shook her head slowly, a hint of remorse in her eyes as she looked down at it. She then cleared her throat and ignored the call, and the message that came up made her stomach sink. 97 Missed Calls, 82 New Messages. Awesome. She was going to have a great time explaining this one. What could she really say to the people she had spent twelve years of her life with? They were her friends, the people who had been her only family for so long. She had just walked out on them and disappeared into the night, no explanation, she didn't know what she could say to make them understand. There was no logical or believable story to tell.

Just as she was considering calling back, at least to let them know that she was alive, something crossed her mind—Sam. He had walked out on everyone he had known back when he had left college to return to the hunting life. He had turned his back on everyone for their safety. Dean had isolated himself away from others out of a fear of them getting hurt. She knew that she couldn't call them, she couldn't stay in touch with them. It wasn't safe.

Dean was about to say something more, becoming a little anxious of her sudden silence, when, without warning, she turned and opened the window beside her and tossed the phone out to the dark, rainy highway. He watched her closely, eyes wide, as she rolled it up again and turned to lean against it, so casual that it could never have happened. And she never uttered a word, as though she expected him not to question her, like what she had done wasn't anything out of the ordinary.

He remained silent for a few more seconds, hoping that she would be the one to speak first, unsure of how he was supposed to react. Tentative, he cleared his throat, his eyes fixed on the road. "What was that about?" he asked her, wary, like he was anxious of what she was going to respond.

Haley sighed. "I can't go back to that life, Dean." she said simply. "I don't want to go back to that life."

Dean frowned, glancing over at her. There was a thoughtful look on her face, giving away that her mind was clearly anywhere but there. "No one's gonna make you go back there, Hales." he assured, unsure for a moment of whether she had actually been considering that they might have told her to. He couldn't imagine it. Of course, they had been hesitant for her to hunt again, they had told her that, and she understood, but there was no way they could ever turn their backs on her. "You're always okay with us, alright? Nothing's changed there."

"No, I know," She shook her head, that wasn't what she had meant. "It's just, I don't know, easier to put it all behind me, I guess." She shrugged.

"Hm," He gave a thoughtful nod. "You might be right. It's not great having connections in this life."

Haley scoffed, as if the statement amused her. "Yeah, I remember dad giving that speech, too." she quipped.

Dean sighed. Everything was becoming a joke to her, or something to be brushed off with some light comment like it didn't matter. And he knew that was what he did, but he also knew that it didn't help anyone. And it certainly wouldn't help her. He didn't want her to go back down the road of refusing to talk about her feelings to anyone, or refusing to acknowledge the severity of what was going on around her. "Look, Hales," He paused for a moment, considering his words. "I know that this life is different from what you've been doing all these years, and I know that it means saying goodbye to a lot of people, but...you know...I can promise you here, me and Sam are always your family. We're always here. We've always got your back, sis. I promise."

"I know," she smiled at him. "Thanks, Dean."

As long as she knew that, it was okay. The same with Sam. As long as they both knew they had someone there for them, that they weren't alone, that he wouldn't ever turn his back on them, no matter what, things were okay. After so long, he could sigh in relief that she didn't think that anything had changed between them. He didn't, as far as he had been concerned everything was exactly the same between them as it had been twelve years ago. And it was good to hear the same from her.

Nothing else was said between them for a few moment, both of them focused solely on their own heavy thoughts. However, when Dean looked back to her, she looked to be even more conflicted than before. The frown at her brow had deepened, and she stared down at her knees unseeingly, as if she had forgotten how to blink. "What's on your mind, kiddo?" Dean pressed through her thoughts, his voice remaining upbeat as he shifted slightly in his seat to get a better view of her between glances of the road.

It took her a moment to even register his words, and she still didn't look up as she answered. "Nothing, it's just..." She shrugged, as if she wasn't sure herself. "I was just thinking..." She trailed off, it seemed an impossible task to voice the consistent thoughts swarming her mind.

He shot her a look and quirked an eyebrow, curious. "You wanna elaborate on that?" he pressed.

"I don't know," Haley sighed. "I was thinking about mom, and dad." She spoke slowly, knowing that it was a difficult subject to bring up with him, but Dean's stance never faltered, and he waited patiently for her to continue. "You know, I can't imagine what they would have said if they'd seen how I turned out."

Dean narrowed his eyes as he thought that one through. He had a feeling that their opinions of that were going to be very different. "I'm sure they would have been proud of you." he said quietly, hoping that she would agree with him.

But she scoffed, dubious, as though the idea amused her. "I doubt it." she muttered. "No parents want to see their kid grow up to be a stripper, Dean. Or an ex-junkie."

And that was when Dean realised, the two of them had seriously different opinions about her. Dean knew somewhere in the back of his mind that they had to be proud of her, because he was proud of her. And Sam. And he could never understand why neither of them seemed able to comprehend that.

But that wasn't anything he wanted to explain to her. And instead, he gave a soft chuckle. "Hey, guy who started the apocalypse sitting right here. Guy who set Lucifer free sleeping back there." He looked to her and offered a small smile. "We've all done stuff we're not proud of, Hales. At least you didn't potentially end the world." he remarked.

Haley found herself smiling at that, and allowed a small laugh to escape her. "How far to Oklahoma?" she asked, and he knew somewhere that she was just trying to change the subject, but he didn't press it.

"Uh," Dean narrowed his eyes as he thought to himself for a moment. "I'd say about three or four hours, we should get to Ketchum for around half eight, gives us time to check into a motel and get some breakfast before we get on with the job."

She nodded. "And, of course, by get on with the job, you mean have ourselves admitted to a crazy house?"

Dean threw her a smirk. "Are you trying to tell me you haven't missed my _ingenious_ plans, Haley?"

Haley scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Obviously." He felt a smile tugging at his lips and slowed down the car a little, pulling over to the side of the highway without a word. She glanced over at him, confused, and raised her eyebrows, as if to ask if she had missed something. "What are you doing?"

He smirked and turned off the engine, sitting back for a moment. "You can still drive, right?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

Haley frowned. "Wha—"

But Dean only grinned at her and climbed out of the car before she could finish. She didn't move as he strode around the front of his car and pulled open the passenger door. He leaned in and pushed her over the seat until she was behind the wheel and climbed inside himself as he did.

"I think it's about time you got to drive my baby, don't you?" he smirked. "Just, don't get used to it."

She still didn't move, unsure of whether or not he was screwing with her. "Are you sure?"

Dean nodded. "I trust you."

Haley looked up at him for a moment, the words ran deeper than just his car and they both knew that, but she simply nodded at him. "Me, too." she replied quietly.

"Alright," Dean clapped his hands together. "Come on, let's go. We've got places to be." Haley smirked and turned on the engine. "And don't crash." he added lightly.

* * *

><p><em>So, this was technically the second half of what I intended to be chapter ten, I told you it'd gotten to 20,000 words ;-) <em>

_Hope you enjoyed this chapter. There was a lot more Castiel—because I know a lot of you were wondering which side he was going to be on in this story, but now you know. A lot more of what came out in this chapter will be explained in more detail as the story goes on, don't worry about that. Like I keep saying, everything will be revealed gradually. And, as well, Haley trying to kill herself! (That isn't a pointless thing I've just added for a bit of drama in the chapter, it does come back up again in the future, but not for a good few chapters, though. But, I will say this, Bobby isn't the only one who knows about it. _

_I'm sure from the end of this chapter most of you have probably worked out what is coming up, we're back on with season five like I promised. It isn't going to be like a new episode for every chapter, it will be much more spread out than that, and there will definitely be other storylines going on between them, and also I won't be doing every episode from season five, either—mainly it will just be around episodes sixteen to twenty-two. But they won't be for a while, yet. _

_And, as always, I know I'm slightly behind on updating Haley Grace Winchester with all of your ideas, but I am getting on with them! If you do have any request for a chapter on that please send me a PM, I love hearing your ideas! _

_I really hope you're still enjoying this story, there is lots more to come. Thank you so much for taking the time to read, I cannot tell you how much I truly appreciate your time and support. Don't forget to leave a review and let me know what you thought! __Next update will be Friday!_

_And finally, I hope you all have a very happy and healthy 2015! _


	12. Hunting Is Where The Sanity Leaves You

_First off, th__ank you for reading the last chapter, and to those of you who reviewed, thank you so much! Hope you enjoy__ this one__! :-) _

_Also, I know that this chapter is a day late, I'm very sorry! I've had some internet issues the past few days and wasn't able to update yesterday!_

_**IMPORTANT!**__—I have made some changes to this story over the past week. I don__'t know if you've noticed but this and Haley Grace Winchester both have new story covers, with a new girl in them. This is because, as I was searching for this fic through google, I came across another supernatural sisfic on another site which also had a sister being portrayed by the actress Brittany Snow, who was also called Haley. It hasn't been intentional, and I didn't know about it at all, but as this fic seems to be getting more popular as it goes on, and with more people reading it every week, I don't want it to get to the point that either people are confusing mine with another, or readers of another story are confusing that with mine. I've decided that, because of these reasons, I was going to change the character in it. __Nothing at all has changed within the story__, other than her appearance. I'm not really happy about it myself, but I would rather make a change now while it is still early rather than have to make that decision further down the line. Thank you for understanding, I hope it doesn't bother you too much!_

* * *

><p><span><strong>Saving Grace<strong>

**Chapter Twelve: Hunting Is Where The Sanity Leaves You**

_Glenwood Springs Psychiatric Hospital — Ketchum, Oklahoma — 11:01 am. _

It had been a long morning for all of the Winchester siblings. There was certainly no denying that. They had spent the entire night driving across the country to get there—time mostly spent with Dean coaching Haley on how his baby liked to be driven—before they had briefly made the time to check into a motel for a couple of hours sleep before they had headed out to begin their hunt.

Honestly, it wasn't a job that either Sam or Dean were too thrilled about. Getting themselves checked into a mental institution wasn't exactly at the top of their list of favourite things to do, but they both accepted that it needed to be done. It wasn't like they could pick and choose the hunts they wanted to take. They had to deal with whatever came up. Haley, however, had seemed vaguely optimistic about the whole thing. They had suspected mostly due to the fact it was her first real hunt back in the job, that she was just glad to be out of the house and doing something.

Dean remembered when he had taken his first real hunt, because he had been exactly the same. He had been excited, to finally be out there doing what he had trained so hard for, to finally have the chance to fight the creatures he had spent years hearing about, there had always been a thrill in hunting to him. The adrenaline ran high, for years it had been that way. But lately, that wasn't his attitude towards it, anymore. Things were different. Things were darker. _He _was darker. Everything was new to Haley, she hadn't seen the true evil that he had. He knew somewhere deep down that her optimism and upbeat attitude would drain away eventually, that hunting would suck it all away from her, the way it had done to him.

Dean heaved a deep sigh as he dropped down into one of the two leather chairs facing the large desk in the center of the room. Sam sat down in the identical one to his right, while Haley completely bypassed them both to sit on the couch to the side of the square room. She picked up a magazine from the small table beside it, not appearing too concerned with anything that was going on around her. He could see from a mile away that she was tired, though she would never let on, yet there was the faint hint of a smile at her lips.

His eyes looked away from her and moved to scan between the many framed certificates of qualifications hung on the wall behind the desk, probably placed there by the Doctor in some obnoxious way to show everyone who entered the amount of time and money he had spent on his work, to prove how much experience he had under his belt. Yet Dean found it almost comical that, while he felt himself in a position to boast his knowledge, there was potentially something crawling around the darkness of his hospital that could rip him apart in seconds. He gave a slight chuckle at the thought, shaking the image from his head. He looked away from the wall to the files lying on the desk, and then to the basic plant positioned in the corner and the bland shades that covered the windows. Hell, he couldn't have made it look anymore of a shrink's office had he tried.

Curiosity took the better of him, he couldn't help himself, and he reached over the desk and took the file closet to him. Sam and Haley watched him, never voicing a word of protest, as his eyes scanned over the first page of the file. He wasn't sure what he had expected to find inside it, or what a shrink's file was supposed to look like, but between them he assumed his siblings must have done a pretty professional looking job of it, otherwise they wouldn't be sitting there.

_Patient History for E. Van Halen, compiled by Dr. Babar, in referral to Dr. Aaron Fuller. _

Dean couldn't help but chuckle at the choice of names.

_Edward was admitted to Chicago Psychiatric Institute 09/10/07 after reviewing a referral from Hollymore Psychiatric Hospital and a preliminary interview with his brother, Alex, and sister, Amy. _

_All three siblings have been patients within Chicago Psychiatric Institute since 09/10/07, however I am now requesting a referral to Glenwood Springs Psychiatric Hospital for all three. The three patients should receive an interview with Dr. Aaron Fuller to determine their suitability for his institution. _

It went on like that for several pages, holding false information on all three of them, referring them to the hospital in which they were sitting. He made an impressed sound at the words, nodding to himself. "Nice bit of writing you've put together here," he commented, glancing over the next few pages. "Very clever."

Sam huffed a laugh. "Don't look at me," he said simply. "She did it."

Dean looked over at her, frowning a little. It wasn't like he could claim to know that much about her life, and he didn't for a second think that she wasn't smart, but he knew it wasn't an easy task to make an entire file like that. "Maybe you should have considered a career as a shrink instead of a stripper." he quipped, giving her a small smirk.

Haley just laughed at him, saying nothing as she looked back down to the magazine open on her crossed legs. Dean closed the file and returned it to the desk, just as he heard the sound of footsteps heading down the hallway outside the room. The door opened behind them and a man stepped inside, a long white coat pulled over his shirt and tie. He wore small glasses, rested on the end of his nose, and looked to be in his sixties. There was a stern frown set deep within his features that Dean just didn't like.

The doctor moved around to the other side of his desk and sat down heavily, offering a tight smile as he looked between the three siblings, almost as if he was already suspicious of them. Dean had to imagine that it wasn't every morning he came into work to find that all of a sudden he had three people showing up for referral without any mention before. He picked up the file that Dean had previously been reading and took a few seconds to observe the front before he spoke. "You must be the," He paused and opened the file, raising his eyebrows a little. "Van Halen siblings?" He looked between them again, a little more pointedly, dubious.

Haley bit back a laugh at her own choice of name, while Sam visibly cringed, the same way he had done that morning—he still didn't know why he left his siblings in charge of forging their documents, they always seemed to need to make it something that would one day get them caught, sometimes with Dean he had assumed he was just pushing the law until it became so obvious they _would _get busted—while Dean simply gave a nod, impassive, still somewhat proud of it.

Doctor Fuller looked back to the file and narrowed his eyes a little, scanning through the contents quickly. "You were referred to me by a Doctor Babar in Chicago?" he asked, once again looking nothing but skeptical at the information being presented to him.

Dean just nodded. "That's right." he replied, his voice completely calm and held together.

He seemed a little hesitant with his next comment, yet after a moment voiced it regardless. "Isn't there a children's book about an elephant named Babar?" he asked Dean.

Sam closed his eyes, and he could almost _hear _Haley smirking to herself. But Dean wasn't phased. "I don't know, I don't have any elephant books." he deadpanned, as though anything but impressed with his question. "Look, Doctor, I—I think that the Doc was in over his head with this one," he said, pointing to Sam as he spoke. "Because my brother is..." He trailed off, as though searching for the right words to describe him, and brought up his hand to make a crazy sign, circling his finger at the side of his head with a low whistle.

The doctor raised a hand to stop him. "Okay, fine, thank you. That's—that's really not necessary." He reached across his desk and pulled a notepad and pen towards himself. "Alright," He looked to Sam, curious. "Why don't you tell me how you're feeling, Alex?"

Sam sighed, dramatically. "I'm fine," he replied, giving a small shrug as though he couldn't even understand why he was there. The doctor opened his mouth to say something else, but Sam continued before he had the chance. "I mean, okay, a little depressed, I guess..."

"Okay," Doctor Fuller scribbled something down on his notepad, and Dean couldn't help but lean forwards slightly to see, before he looked back to Sam. "Any idea why?"

"Probably because I started the apocalypse." he replied casually, as though what he was saying was nothing out of the ordinary, to them, it wasn't.

Doctor Fuller looked up at him, eyebrows raised in curiosity. "The apocalypse?" he pressed, like he wanted to make sure he had heard him right.

Sam nodded confidently. "Yeah, that's right."

He looked to Dean who simply smiled at him. "And..." he paused and turned back to Sam. "You think you started it?"

"Well, yeah..." Sam nodded again. "I mean...I killed this demon, Lilith, and I accidentally freed Lucifer from hell. So now, he's topside, and we're trying to stop him."

The doctor looked to Dean again, already exasperated. "Who is?"

"Me." Sam said. "A—and them." He pointed to Dean and Haley as he spoke. "And this, uh, one angel."

"Oh," He looked up again. "You mean, like a...like an angel on your shoulder?"

"No, no," Sam shook his head. "His name is Castiel. He wears a trench coat." Doctor Fuller simply nodded, perplexed, and went back to taking notes.

"You see what I mean, Doc?" Dean finally spoke up again. "The kid's been beating himself up about this for months." He sighed, shaking his head. "The apocalypse wasn't his fault."

The doctor had looked relatively okay with Dean, until those last five words left his mouth. He glanced up at him, appearing stunned, and raised his eyebrows. "It wasn't?"

"No." Dean deadpanned. "You see, there was this other demon, Ruby. She got him addicted to demon blood, and near the end he was practically chugging the stuff." Sam looked down, as though he was ashamed of himself, as Dean spoke. "My brother's not evil, he was just...high...yeah?" He gave an encouraging nod to the doctor. "So, could you fix him up so we can get back to traveling around the country and hunting monsters?"

"Hm." Doctor Fuller furiously scribbled down some more notes to the paper in front of him, he said nothing for a long moment, as though unable to gather his thoughts, before his eyes rose to Haley. "And, can I ask, Amy, what's your part in all of this?"

Haley looked over to him and closed the magazine still open in her lap, quirking an eyebrow. "Me?" He nodded, and she could see his apprehension at what she was going to say. "Oh, I don't really have a part right now." she answered, sincere.

Doctor Fuller appeared nothing but relieved with her response, as though he had expected her to start talking demons along with her brothers. "You don't?" he asked, somewhat hopeful.

"No," Haley shook her head. "You see, when I was sixteen this other demon, Azazel, stabbed me in the stomach and left me for dead—this is after he burned our mother on the ceiling and infected him with demon blood." She pointed to Sam as she spoke. "But then the angel he mentioned, Castiel, came down and saved me, but he also took my memory. So, for the past twelve years, while they've been running around starting apocalypses and killing monsters, I was calling myself Roxy and working as a stripper in Wisconsin with no idea who I really was."

"Apocalypses?" Dean repeated, incredulous, before anyone else had a chance to comment. "_Plural_? Pretty sure we only started one."

Haley scoffed. "I wouldn't put it past you to have started more than one." she countered.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Oh, why don't you go find a pole to swing off, _Roxy._" he rebuked.

"Fine," she threw back at him, matching the sarcasm in his tone easily. "How about you give me a ride back to Wisconsin once you're done having sex with your own car."

"Hey, you leave my baby out of this." Dean warned, defensive.

Sam cleared his throat, as if in some attempt to remind them that they weren't alone, and that it probably wasn't the best time for them to be arguing with each other, but neither seemed to notice. The doctor looked between them, utterly bewildered, and cleared his throat, somewhat louder and firmer than Sam, gaining the attention of everyone in the room. They looked to him expectantly, like they were waiting for him to speak, but instead he held up a hand, indicating for them to wait. He reached for the phone on his desk and dialed in an extension before he held it to his ear. "Irma...cancel my lunch."

Dean gave a satisfied smile at his words and patted his brother comfortingly on the arm, just for the dramatic effect. Sam glared at him, and fought back the urge to roll his eyes. It wasn't a job that either of them were looking forward to getting on with, but they knew it had to be done.

There was no backing out now.

* * *

><p><em>Almost One Hour Later — <em>_Glenwood Springs Psychiatric Hospital — Patient Lounge — 11:52 am. _

Sam heaved a deep sigh as he leaned against the back of a couch, his arms folded tightly across his chest as he shook his head slowly to himself. He still couldn't believe that he had let Dean talk him into taking this hunt, especially with everything that had been going on around them the past week. He understood that, sure, Haley wanted back in the game, and Dean wanted to be away from the same four walls they had been staring at for days, but it seemed that he was only one willing to acknowledge the danger that was really out there just waiting for their sister. She didn't seem to care at all, she acted as though having an army of angels and an army of demons out for her neck was nothing. Dean acted as though he wasn't worried, but Sam, he was the only one who seemed capable to speak up about how he felt about the situation. And it wasn't good.

After what felt like forever, he finally spotted Dean heading towards him, wearing the same clothes as he was—light blue pants, a white t-shirt and a blue robe—and gave a small nod. He looked frazzled, the same as Sam felt. It wasn't like either of them had expected being admitted to a mental asylum to be a pleasant experience, but even they had a line where things became uncomfortable.

Dean cleared his throat as he approached, hands shoved inside his pockets. "How was your silkwood shower?" he grumbled, looking up to Sam as he spoke.

Sam simply grimaced, as though to say he didn't want to discuss it, a feeling that Dean equally shared. "Dude," he sighed. Both brothers looked around the room, glancing between the different patients in there. "I cannot _believe _that I let you talk me into taking this hunt." He was clearly anything but happy about where they were.

"Hey, come on, it's the least we could do." Dean stated. "Martin saved Dad's ass more time than we can count. He's a great hunter."

"A great hunter?" Sam repeated, incredulous, scoffing.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Well, okay, smartass, he _was_ a great hunter. Until Albuquerque. But that's not the point." Sam shot him a look, dubious. "And besides," Dean continued. "I just figure it's best we keep busy, that's all, not sit around in Bobby's house forever feeling sorry for ourselves."

"And, by feeling sorry for ourselves, you mean keeping our sister out of the way of the angel and demon armies that want to slice her neck?" Sam threw back, sarcastic. "Dean, we shouldn't be throwing her back into it like this, it's not safe."

Dean groaned, exasperated. "For god's sake, Sam," he shook his head. "Not this again."

He was tired of hearing it. From Sam, from himself—just in general. He wanted to rid the feelings of doubt in his own mind, and Sam wasn't helping him do that by bringing it up to him.

Sam sighed, seeing him getting riled up, but it wasn't something he could drop. He wouldn't drop it until he was sure that Dean got his message, until he was sure that he was confident she could be there. "Look, all I'm saying is—"

"I know what you're saying, Sam." Dean snapped, stopping him sharply before he could say more. "But I am not going to treat her like a child. She knows what she's doing out there, you know that."

"Dean," Sam shook his head. Because, truth was, he didn't. "That was twelve years ago. She isn't that girl anymore."

Sam knew that Dean still held onto the person Haley had been twelve years ago, and maybe there wasn't much that had changed, but that didn't mean she hadn't been in the life for years. It didn't mean that she had done any hunting in what could be considered a lifetime. It didn't change the fact that, no matter how enthusiastic she was, none of them really knew how she was going to handle herself if faced with danger. But he was desperate for things to go back to the way he figured they should be, and Haley was desperate to hunt, what could he really say anymore? It was too late for them to back out, they were there, all of them. They had to carry on.

But Dean wasn't having it, and all he did was roll his eyes at his brother's concern. "Oh, come on, Sam, stop it." he muttered. "Look, just because we're in the loony bin doesn't give you the right to head-shrink me. I wouldn't put my sister anywhere that she's gonna be in danger, okay?" His voice was low and harsh. "Now, I know what I'm doing, and so does she. Let it go."

"Dean," Sam sighed, because he wasn't buying it. "You always do this. You can't just keep this crap in."

Dean have a hard chuckle, more annoyed than amused. "Watch me." he muttered, turning away from Sam as he spoke. His eyes fell to where she was heading down the same hallway he had walked several minutes earlier, and he nodded at Sam. "There she is."

They both turned to her, and she gave a tight smile, Dean could only guess that her check in had been as uncomfortable as theirs was, even if she had been with a different nurse. "You good?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at her as she came to a stop beside them.

"Yeah," she nodded, as though confused to what he was getting at. "I'm good. You?"

Sam and Dean nodded. "We're good." he muttered. "Shall we get on with it?" He turned and allowed his eyes to scan the room once again, this time knowing who he was looking for. "Where—" But he stopped himself as his eyes fell to a man sitting beside the window, staring out of it, vacant. "He's there."

Slowly, they approached the table where he sat. Sam cleared his throat and grabbed his attention. Whatever train of thought Martin had been lost in snapped at the sound, and he jumped to turn to them. "Sam, Dean, wow." He stood up and looked between them, a smile on his face. "Wow, you boys got big." It was then that his eyes fell to Haley, and a frown formed at his brow, he appeared confused. "Haley? I thought you were dead."

"It's a long story." Dean grumbled, as if to warn him he wasn't about to sit down and explain everything to him. They didn't have the time, and he certainly didn't have the patience. He knew they'd probably have that coming a lot, with the hunters they ran into, their dad's old friends, anyone who had known their family at the time. Word spread quickly between hunters, and news that John Winchester's daughter had been taken down hadn't been an exception.

The tense silence that seemed to fall from Dean's tone lingered for a moment, and no one spoke. Martin looked between them slowly, and then gave a small nod, as if to brush it off. "Well, you three look good."

"Thanks," Sam forced up a tight smile. "You do, too, Martin."

"Uh...well, thanks for coming." He motioned for them to sit down at the table with him. Dean took a seat in the chair opposite him, while Sam moved to pull up a chair from the next table, and Haley sat on the arm of Dean's seat. "You know, in the old days, I could've taken care of this thing with both hands tied behind my back...but, well...now..." He trailed off, shaking his head.

"What do you think it is that we're hunting?" Sam asked, frowning a little at the vague information Martin was sharing.

"I don't know yet," he sighed. "A ghost, demon, monster...animal, vegetable, mineral." He gave an, almost nervous, chuckle. "The hospital's had five deaths in the last two months. Doctors keep calling it suicide, but they're wrong."

"So, have you seen this thing?" Haley asked him. Martin only shook his head in response.

Dean narrowed his eyes a little, skeptical. "Has _anyone _seen this thing?"

"Well, a couple of patients have, uh...had glimpses." he shrugged. "But there's not a lot to go on."

That only seemed to make Dean even more dubious. "Are they reliable?"

"Oh, sure," Martin nodded confidently, and then frowned. "Why wouldn't they be?"

Dean raised his eyebrows, and then glanced over his shoulder at a female patient who was humming and slow dancing with herself, trapped in her own little world. He looked back to Martin and gave a look, as if to wonder how he could ask. "Gee, I don't know." he muttered.

"Look, I know you think I'm a bag of loose screws," Martin sighed. "Now, you wouldn't be wrong. But I wouldn't have called you unless there was something here. I can feel it in my gut."

Sam, Dean and Haley exchanged a short look, seeming to come to the same consensus between them. "We believe you." Sam nodded. "Have you checked any of the bodies? Found signs of an attack?"

Martin shifted a little in his seat, suddenly uncomfortable. "Well, uh, no..." he shook his head. "I don't...I don't go around dead b-b-b-bodies anymore." he stuttered.

"Ah," A new voice suddenly sounded from behind them. "Alex, Eddie, Amy," All four of them turned to see Doctor Fuller standing beside the table, a stern look on his face. "Well, I'm glad to see the three of you are making friends." He looked between them slowly, before his eyes fell to Sam. "Why don't you and, uh, Mr. Creaser join us for group?" Sam opened his mouth, as if to protest, but didn't get the chance. "Please," he pushed. "Right this way." Not seeing another option, they complied. With a reluctant sigh, all three Winchesters, along with Martin, rose to their feet. "Actually," The doctor held up a hand to stop Dean and Haley from following. "I'm going to be putting the two of you in the afternoon group."

"What?" If the situation had been different, Sam and Haley might have found it in them to laugh at the completely dumbstruck look on Dean's face. "Why?"

The Doctor gave him a tight smile. "Well, to be frank, uh, the relationship that you have with your brother seems to be dangerously codependent. I think a little time apart will do you both good." Dean raised an eyebrow, as if that couldn't have made less sense to him. "And," The doctor continued before he had a chance to speak. "As well as that, I think that spending some time with your sister, with the absence of your brother, will help to fix the clearly strained and, shall we say, fragile relationship there."

Haley took a step forwards at that, defensive. "And what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Dean held out an arm to his side on instinct at her words, holding just in front of her stomach, blocking her from stepping any closer to him. It was as though Dean already expected her to challenge him further. The doctor looked between them one last time and offered another cold smile, before he turned and headed off down the hallway again, followed reluctantly by Marin and Sam, who turned to them and offered a pathetic wave as he backed away.

Dean and Haley looked between each other before returning their glare to the doctor. "Jackass." they both muttered at the same time.

Haley shook her head. "Come on." she said, nodding for him to follow her.

Dean frowned, confused. "Where are we going?" he called after her. Haley turned on him, still walking backwards, and pulled a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of her gown, throwing him a smirk before she turned and headed on. "You've been here about an hour, if that," he chastised. "How the hell have you found somewhere to smoke already?" She said nothing, just carried on walking. "And I'm not happy with you doing that, either, you know." he added sternly.

"No," she mumbled. "You keep saying."

Dean rolled his eyes and followed her through the hospital without saying another word. She was so grown up, so independent now, it somehow scared him. He didn't know what he had expected from her back on a job, whether he had thought she would suddenly turn scared or look to him for help, but she appeared more than put together.

She headed out of some double glass doors to the back of the hospital. There was a large field, surrounded by trees and flowers, and a path around the side. His eyes fell to where there were a couple of other residents standing around there smoking, and then to Haley as she headed over in their direction, hands shoved in her pockets. She bypassed the other patients and moved out of hearing distance from them before she dropped down to sit on the floor. He raised his eyebrows but did the same, sitting across from her.

Dean watched as she lit up a cigarette and relaxed against the wall behind her. Already exasperated with the whole job, he gave another strained sigh, beginning to think that this hadn't been the best hunt to take. It was the first time the three of them had taken a hunt together, ever, without their dad there, without anyone else involved, the first time the three of them were really working together as their own team. Haley was still settling back into the life, in reality, it was her first real hunt, and he was asking her to do something as ludicrous as this. They were checked into a mental institution, and he was starting to wonder whether he should've taken the time to find them just a standard ghost hunt, something easy, but he had been itching to get back out on the road, away from sitting in one place every day. He needed something to do, something to take his mind off everything else, and, at the time, this had seemed the best option available.

Haley eyed him, wary. "What's wrong?" she asked, sounding concerned.

Dean looked back to her, shaking his head. "Nothing." he muttered. She shot him a look, as if to tell him that she wasn't buying it, and he sighed. "It's just...I mean, are you sure you're ready for this? We can sneak you out if you want? You can take a couple days out while we finish up."

"Dude," she shook her head, giving a small laugh. "Would you stop it? I wanna do this, alright? I wanna, you know, get back into it."

"Yeah," he nodded. "I know you do." And that was what scared him.

Or, maybe it wasn't that. Maybe it wasn't that she wanted to hunt that scared him, maybe it was just the fact that he knew Haley hadn't changed. That was it. If she really was the same girl she had been twelve years ago, that meant that she was reckless, it meant that she was selfless, it meant that she wasn't afraid to fight. It meant that she didn't watch her own back, because she was too busy watching everyone else's. The thing that scared him most about Haley was the fact that he could so easily lose her again. It was the same with Sam. Both of them, in his eyes, were so vulnerable, because he knew that it only took a second. It had only taken a second for the demon to plunge that knife into Haley's stomach. It had only taken Jake a second to shove that knife into Sam's back. And he knew that it would only take a second for something to take them away again. That was what he was truly afraid of.

"Anything about this remind you of high school?" Haley suddenly asked, pulling him from his thoughts.

Dean looked back to her and raised an eyebrow. "Huh?"

"I don't know," Haley shrugged. "Sitting outside, somewhere like this, just us. It was like half our education in high school."

Dean huffed a laugh, nodding. Half their school days had been spent with the two of them skipping classes together. When they got really bad, or the other kids or teachers or work, whatever it was, got too much. They would bail together. And then, after a while, it had just seemed easier to stick together. After a while, they stopped making an effort with anyone else. Dean didn't do anything when the guys in his class asked him to hang out, Haley did nothing when the girls in her class asked her to do something—it was easier not to. Instead, they'd ditch class together, they'd skip school together, because those had been the years when they had been more like friends than siblings.

Back then, everything had seemed to easy. But there was something different about Dean now. He was so much more run down, he had been through so much more pain, he had lost so many more people, he had experienced so many more beatings and taken so many more hits, yet he was still going. There had been a spark in her brother back then, something that just seemed to have burned out.

"What?" Dean snapped her from her thoughts, and she looked to him as if to ask what he wanted. "You're staring at me," he clarified. "What's wrong?"

Haley frowned. "You just seem...I don't know...different," she shrugged. "Tired."

Dean scoffed. "Can you blame me?" he asked her, sarcastically.

Haley rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean."

He did. Haley thought that he was at the end, probably down to the fact she had made the mistake of asking Sam how he was. And they all knew that Sam worried about Dean more than he had ever let on to anyone. If she had asked him, then Sam had told her everything, and Haley had worked it out in her head that he wanted to give up. Which, in truth, wasn't that wrong. But he wouldn't. Honestly, he was tired of all the crap, he was at the end of his patience with everything, but it wasn't like was ever going to stop throwing back the punches. He wouldn't.

Dean thought through everything he and Sam had been through over the past few weeks, a lot of which they had already told her. She knew about Ellen and Jo dying, about how they tried, and failed, to shoot lucifer with the colt. She knew about them meeting Famine and War, the horsemen. Hell, he'd even gone so far as to tell her he'd had his ass handed to him by Paris Hilton. And sure, there was stuff he'd left out, details he'd graced over, but they were things he didn't want her to know, because he didn't want her to see him in that light. Thinking back to meeting Famine, the words still rang through his mind 'inside, you're already dead', and a part of him wanted to tell her, purely because he knew that she would say something that would make it seem right again, something only she could say, something that would lift the crushing weight of it all from his shoulders, but he couldn't. He wouldn't dump that on her. That wasn't fair.

"Don't worry about me, Hales," He forced up a smile and knocked her knee with his. "I'm fine." But she still looked skeptical. "I'm great." he added, a little more enthusiastically.

Haley looked to be far from convinced, but nodded anyway. "Sure." she muttered. "Hey," Dean looked up at her, and she nodded off somewhere behind him. "Look who it is."

Dean turned and raised an eyebrow, squinting through the sunlight to see Sam heading over to them, hands shoved in his pockets, an exasperated frown on his face. "Hey," He couldn't help but grin at is expression. "That was quick."

Sam didn't reply, only made a sound somewhere between a grunt and a grumble. Haley chuckled as he dropped down to the ground to sit with them. "How was group?" she asked, not bothering to hide the amusement in her tone.

"Uh," Sam thought for a moment, as if searching for the right word to describe it. "Interesting."

"Really?" Dean quirked an eyebrow, dubious. "Dude, you were gone like fifteen minutes."

"Yeah," Sam scoffed. "Said I was taking a bathroom break."

Haley chuckled. "You rebel."

"So, what happened?" Dean pressed, looking back to his brother curiously.

"Well," Sam paused and thought for a moment. "Turns out Martin isn't the first one in here to think there's a monster running around. There are other patients who think they've seen it. Actually, there was a patient in there, said he'd seen something in Susan's room the night she died, next thing they know they find her on the floor with her wrists slashed."

"Huh," Dean frowned. "Ain't nothing suspicious about that." he commented. "Did he say what it was? Or, what it looked like?"

Sam shook his head. "Nah, and boss man seemed pretty hasty to shut him up about it, too. But, whatever it was, I think Martin was right, there's definitely something going on here."

Dean and Haley nodded in agreement. "Sure sounds like it."

"So," Haley looked between them. "What do we do?"

Dean shrugged and sat forwards a little. "Well, I think we should probably talk to that guy who saw it happen, see what he has to say. Or," He paused, knowing that neither of them were going to like it. "We go and take a look at the body ourselves."

"Cool." Haley muttered, impassive, as though the comment couldn't have bothered her less. She put out her cigarette on the floor beside her and pushed herself up. Sam and Dean exchanged a look. But, not seeming to see a problem, she said nothing, and so neither did they.

* * *

><p><em>Fifteen minutes later<em>

The three of them rounded the corner to an empty hallway, heading towards the hospital's morgue. Dean walked up in front, with Sam and Haley at either side of him and slightly behind, somehow on instinct. He made sure that he was always the one in front, and therefore always the one closer to danger. In a way, it was like his way of protecting them, even in the most unnoticeable ways.

Dean opened his mouth to say something, but the feeling of someone taking a tight grab of the collar of his gown stopped him. The impact of the neck of his t-shirt tightening around his neck quickly choked the words from leaving his mouth. He turned fast enough to see Sam releasing his grip of him, and to see Haley's confused and shocked face mirroring his.

"Dude," She pulled her arm free of his grasp and rubbed it a little, proving the impact he had used when he had dragged them around the corner. "What the hell?"

Sam said nothing, just nodded towards the hallway beside them as Doctor Fuller passed by, a concentrated frown on his face, as if he was too far in his own thoughts to be bothered about what they were up to. He didn't even look in their direction. The three of them remained where they stood in the quiet corridor, just to ensure that no other staff members were about to show up. The last thing they needed was to be seen heading towards the morgue. That would be a great one to explain.

Satisfied that no one else seemed to be coming, and that they were in the clear, Sam sighed. "Alright," he spoke. "Let's get on with this."

"Yeah," Dean nodded in agreement. "The sooner we take care of this thing, the sooner we can get gone." he muttered. "This place gives me the creeps."

He turned around, ready to carry on, but stopped dead as he came face to face with a woman. She looked at him for a moment, and then locked a hand around the back of his neck, pulling him towards her before she placed her lips to his. Dean quickly got over his initial shock and kissed her back, neither seeming to care about anything else going on around them at that point.

Haley raised her eyebrows, a little taken aback by the sudden action, and how little Dean was doing to stop the girl, and looked up at Sam. He gave an awkward shrug, as if to tell her he wasn't sure what to do, either, and looked back to Dean as the girl stepped back from him.

They got a proper look at her. She was pretty, with dirty blonde hair, curled to her shoulders. She smiled at Dean. "Hi." Was all she said.

Dean cracked a small smile. "Hi."

The girl gave him another appreciative look over. "I'm Wendy."

Dean, who still seemed to be in shock, nodded. "Uh-huh." She didn't say anything else as she stepped back and continued on her way, slapping Dean on the ass as she passed him. He turned to watch after her for a moment, and then found a smirk playing at his lips as he finally looked back to Sam and Haley. "Huh," he pondered. "Maybe this place isn't so bad, after all."

"Dude," Sam shook his head in disbelief. "You _cannot _hit that."

Dean looked over Sam's shoulder at where Wendy was approaching the end of the corridor and sighed, conflicted. "Oh, so torn."

Haley rolled her eyes at him and bit back a laugh. "Come on," she muttered. "Let's go."

Sam and Dean nodded, and the three of them carried on their way towards the morgue. They walked in silence, not wanting to draw any unwanted attention to themselves given what they were doing, and headed towards the door. The room was cold and eerie, with the same grim feeling that most of those places gave. The three of them shrugged out of their robes to just the white t-shirts beneath and tossed them aside.

Haley grabbed three pairs of plastic gloves for them while Dean located the right drawer for the body they were looking for. He snapped on his own pair before pulling out the body. With a short breath, Sam pulled back the sheet from the woman's face and grimaced a little. It was never something pleasant to see, no matter how used to it he had become over the years.

Without a word, he lowered himself and began feeling around her head and neck, looking for anything that shouldn't be there. Dean searched her arms and hands, equally unsure of what they were supposed to be searching for.

"Are you sure we should be doing this in the daylight?" Haley suddenly spoke up, seeming apprehensive. "I mean, shouldn't we wait until tonight, you know, when no one comes here."

"No," Dean shot her a glare, as though his reasoning should have been obvious, and placed the woman's arm back to the metal table beneath her. "Because that would mean spending even longer here, and nobody wants that."

"Hey," Sam stopped her before she could say anything else. "I think I found something."

They both looked to him, and the concentrated frown on his face as he felt something behind her ears. "What is it?" Dean asked, curious.

"Right here," Sam frowned a little deeper. "Uh, give me a hand?" He reached over and grabbed a long Q-tip from the table beside them, and tilted her head to the side. It was then that they saw the small hole in her skin, what Sam had obviously been feeling. He slowly pressed the end of it into her skin and pushed it inside. He felt around a little, continuing to push until the whole thing was inside her head. "This hole goes all the way through to her brain." he said quietly, grimacing a little at the thought.

Dean raised his eyebrows. "What does that mean?"

Sam shook his head, as if to say he didn't know, but stopped as his eyes fell to something behind Dean. "Let's find out." he said.

Dean cocked a brow and followed Sam's eyes until he saw the bone saw behind him, looking back to his brother, incredulous. "Seriously?"

Sam gave a halfhearted shrug and straightened himself up. He paused what he was doing for a moment and looked between Dean and Haley's stunned faces before he did anything else. "One of you might want to keep watch." he said, more looking to his sister as he spoke, thinking that she would be the one to volunteer. But, to his surprise, Dean held up his hands in surrender and began to back away.

Haley raised an eyebrow as she watched him leave, the same as Sam. They had never known Dean to back away from blood like that, or to have him leave Sam to do something while he kept watch. It was more often than not that Dean would be the one arguing to do the dirty work while Sam kept watch. It seemed strange that he would so easily walk outside and leave them to it. But neither pressed the matter, realising that there were more pressing matters at hand.

Haley stood and watched as Sam, seemingly effortlessly, positioned the saw and turned it on, concentrating as though his life depended upon it as he began to cut off the top of the woman's head. It was all done a little too quickly and a little too accurately for Haley's liking, and she fought back the urge to ask him if it was something he had done before, because she knew that she didn't really want to hear about it if he had. He placed the saw down on the table and pulled off the top of her head, and the sound made Haley cringe a little.

Sam bent down so that he was eye level with the inside of her head and that's when his face fell, and Haley knew that she wasn't going to like whatever he was about to pull out of there. He tugged out her brain and straightened himself up again to show her, his face mirroring the confusion and disgust that hers did. It was small, black and hard, completely drained.

Haley shook her head slightly. "What the fu—"

But she stopped as Dean slammed open the door and barged inside. "Guys—" He stopped at the sight and frowned.

"Look," Sam held up the brain for Dean to get a better view. "Her brain's been sucked dry."

"That's fascinating," he muttered. "Somebody's coming."

They all stood there for a moment and stared at each other, as if something clicked that they were about to be busted and they just froze. But they quickly got over it and began hurrying to clear everything up. Sam placed the brain back into the woman's empty skull and returned the top of her head to it's place before he pulled the sheet over her again and shoved her back into the drawer. Dean and Haley cleared up everything else, moving the bloody equipment out of sight of anyone who should walk in, not having the time to clean it. They stood there, looking around to make sure everything was done as the footsteps in the hallway came closer. Haley suddenly elbowed Sam hard in the ribs and nodded down, he looked in time to see that he was still wearing bloody gloves, and pulled them off and threw them into the trashcan beside the door just as a nurse walked in.

She looked up from the clipboard in her hands and frowned slightly as she looked between them. "What are you three doing in here?" she asked, the small smile returning to her face, although the suspicion remained in her eyes.

Sam looked to Dean, and then to Haley, who shrugged, unable to think of anything plausible to tell her. Whatever they said, they were still standing in the middle of a morgue, and it would only take a quick look around for her to see that they had been up to something.

Apparently coming to the conclusion that nobody else was about to bail them out, Dean gave a shrug, as if to tell them that he had a plan. Haley and Sam looked between each other, both appearing to think that he was about to give some deep and logical explanation as to what they were doing there, but he didn't.

Dean, in his own logic, stepped forwards and cracked a smile. He shoved down his pants and threw his arms over his head. "Pudding!" he yelled, his voice light and childlike.

Haley stared at him, eyes wide, as if she didn't know what to say. Sam looked stunned and fought back the urge to start laughing at him. The nurse smiled at them and nodded to herself. "Alright," she pulled the door open. "Come on, you three."

Dean gave a goofy smile and pulled his pants back up. As he headed for the door, he turned back to Sam and Haley, both still standing there mouths agape, and smirked. "Crazy works." he whispered, giving a nod.

Sam and Haley rolled their eyes at the same time and followed him out of the room to the hallway. The nurse stood in the doorway of the morgue and watched as they headed out of sight. Once they were out of hearing distance, Sam turned to them. "So, brain sucked dry," he said quietly. "What the hell kind of a creature does that?"

Dean shook his head, lost. "I don't know," he replied. "Nothin' we've ever seen before, anyway." He glanced down at Haley as they headed into the patient room and frowned. "What's up with you?" he asked, nudging her arm with his.

Haley seemed to snap out of her thoughts at the contact. "What's up with me?" she repeated, cocking an eyebrow at him. "I don't know, Dean, let me just ask you, how traumatised would you be right now if I stood up and took my shirt off, huh?"

Sam snickered to himself at her response, but Dean didn't seem convinced by her jokes. He had a feeling that watching Sam saw someone's head off and pull out their brain had taken more of an impact on her than what she had imagined, and then he realised, she should have been the one keeping watch, not him. He wasn't exactly sure what had come over him, but something about being in the room with a dead body had bothered him, and that had never happened to him before.

But he didn't have time to think too far into it before Sam spoke. "Hey, there's Martin." he said, nodding over to where the older hunter sat beside the window.

Martin stood from his seat as they approached, watching their expressions expectantly. Dean's attention seemed solely focused by the paintings on the wall behind him, all of them of clowns, not appearing to be listening to anything going on around him.

"How did it go?" Martin asked them, anxious.

Haley sighed and leaned against the edge of the table. "Disgusting." she commented. "The thing—whatever it is—literally sucked that woman's brain dry."

Martin opened his mouth to reply, but Dean got there first. "What are those, original Gacy's?" he chuckled to himself at the comment, and all three of them turned to face him.

It took them a moment to work out what he had been talking about. Sam's eyes fell to the paintings and he immediately stiffened, and that was when Haley remembered exactly what their brother was afraid of. She shot him a smirk, and he gave her a look that warned her not to even try it with him.

Martin narrowed his eyes at Dean. "I painted those." he said bluntly.

Sam shook his head. "Back on point, please," he said. Dean looked back to Martin, who was still staring at him like a kicked puppy, and mouthed 'it's good' to him, which seemed to return a little of his concentration. "Anyway...this thing...Haley's right...it slurpees your brain, leaves nothing."

"Yeah," Haley nodded. "Then it makes the deaths look like suicides." She looked to Martin again. "Any ideas?"

Martin was silent for a moment, until a look of realisation seemed to wash right through him. "Yeah, a bad one." he spoke slowly. "I think we're dealing with a wraith...They crack open skulls and feed on brain juice."

Sam raised his eyebrows, relieved that they were finally getting somewhere. "You ever tangle with one before?"

Martin shook his head. "Never." he said. "Never wanted to, either."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "So, how do we kill it?"

"Silver." Martin told him. "You so much as touch a wraith with silver, the skin will crackle. But that's the good news. The bad news is...they can pass as humans." The four of them looked around the room, there were dozens of people in that hospital. "It could be anyone in here. The only way to tell is a mirror...Lore says that a wraith will show its true form in a mirror."

"Okay," Dean nodded. "Well then, we just gotta spot check every patient and every staff member." he shrugged. "Simple enough, right?"

"Yeah," Sam nodded. "But—I mean, what's it doing in a mental hospital?"

"A nuthouse," Dean stated, as though it should've been obvious to him. "It's—it's the perfect captive victim pool. I mean, who's gonna believe a patient when they say they saw a monster?"

"Huh. Good point." he muttered. "Alright, well, there's a mirror above reception, Dean you hang around there, Haley you check out the one near the entrance, Martin and I can go and get our hands on some silver."

"Yeah," Dean agreed. "Sounds like a plan." The four of them headed off in separate directions without another word.

* * *

><p>Dean had been standing around at the corner of the nurses' station for about ten minutes, and he was already getting bored. He had positioned himself where he could lean against the counter, arms folded tightly over his chest, and watch through the mirror above as people walked by. And, so far, absolutely nothing. He wasn't even sure what he was supposed to be looking for, he didn't know what a wraith looked like, he just assumed he'd know it when he saw it. At least, he hoped he would. Because he couldn't wait to get out of there.<p>

"Hey," A voice came from beside him. He looked down to see Haley, a bright grin on her face.

"Hey," he frowned. "Thought you were watching the other mirror." he said, not seeming to care either way. At least if she were there he had some company.

"Hm," she nodded, as though she didn't want to answer that one. "What are you doing, Dean?"

Dean narrowed his eyes at her. "What do you mean, what am I doing?" he asked, dubious. "I'm hunting a wraith...could be anyone...sucks brain juice...ring a bell?"

Haley gave a thoughtful frown. "So, I could be a monster then?" she asked, sounding genuinely curious.

Dean sighed, deciding to bite, and looked up at her reflection in the mirror to see that it was completely normal. "Nah," He shook his head. "You're clean."

Seeming bored with the subject, she changed to something else. "Do you ever ask yourself why you?" she asked him slowly, looking up at him with raised eyebrows.

That question caught him by surprise. "Why me, what?"

"Why do you have to hunt monsters?" she questioned. "Why not let someone else do it?"

Dean shrugged, and gave a weak smile. "Can't find anybody else that dumb." he replied, thinking about it for a moment. "And besides, it's our job. Somebody's gotta save people's asses." But, even from her, the questions seemed strange. "Why are you being so weird?"

"I'm just saying," she went on, not seeming to mind that he thought something was wrong. "Why does it have to be you? Why does it have to be us? What did we ever do?"

Dean frowned harder at that. Was she really suggesting what it sounded like? Just walking out on everyone, leaving it to someone else to save the world, that sounded heartless, especially from her. He knew his sister didn't have it in her to do that. It wasn't right. "It's the end of the world, Haley." he said, his tone harder. "I mean, it's a damn biblical apocalypse, you know that. And if we don't stop this and save everyone, nobody will. And we all die."

Haley just shrugged again, impassive. "How many people do you actually think you can save, Dean?" she asked. "How many do you really think aren't going to die here?"

He didn't want to answer that one, because he didn't know. What could he say? All he had to go on was hope. "All of them." he muttered, not sounding convincing to even himself.

"All of them?" she repeated, incredulous, like the thought amused her. "You think you're going to save everyone?"

"Yep," he answered confidently. "Whole wide world of sports. You know, if it's all the same to you, Hales, I'd really rather not talk about this."

Haley ignored him. "How?" she asked. "How do you plan to save them?" Dean didn't answer her, just looked at her, wondering what the hell had happened to her in the past ten minutes to make her such a bitch. He didn't want to answer. "You don't know." she concluded from his expression. "You don't have an answer, you don't have a solution. You have no plan. You're screwed." Her face darkened. "And you dragged me back into this."

Dean's entire face fell. "What?"

"You did that to me." she told him, her voice firmer. "You pulled me back into this life. You did the same to Sam...My god, Dean," She shook her head. "How do you get up in the morning?"

Dean stared at her, contemplating his answer. Those words had taken every straight thought from his mind. He opened and closed his mouth, finding nothing to say to her. "I—" He stopped for a moment and sighed. "That's a good question." he murmured.

It was then that he noticed Doctor Fuller approaching them. "Hello, Eddie." he greeted, looking straight at him as he passed. Dean was about to make a comment, just on principle, about him blanking his sister, but stopped as he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror above. He saw a decaying face, hair matted down to his head, dark, soulless eyes and a dangerous glare. His eyes were wide as he watched him continue down the hallway to his office.

"Did you—" But when he turned back, Haley was gone.

He shook the thoughts of her words from her head, unsure he could even think about that right now, and turned in the direction Sam and Martin had headed off in earlier. He walked quickly, like he thought he could escape the thoughts if he ran away fast enough, and found it hard to focus on anything around him. Everything had been different since they had entered that place, and he didn't know what it was, but it was starting to scare him.

"Dean!" A familiar voice called from behind him. He turned to see Sam, Haley and Martin heading down the hallway towards him.

"Hey," Haley stepped forwards and looked him up and down slowly, like she was concerned. "What's wrong?"

Dean shot her a look, as if to ask how she didn't know. He looked angry, almost hurt, and she didn't know why. He had been fine when she had seen him fifteen minutes earlier, now he looked like he wanted to cry, but she didn't have time to dwell on it before Sam spoke.

"Alright," He cleared his throat and reached into the pocket of his robe, giving a quick glance around to make sure that there was no one watching. "We had to raid three nurses' stations to get these," He handed him a letter opener. "They're only silver plated, but they should work." He handed one to Martin and Haley as he spoke.

Dean opened his mouth to reply, but stopped as his eyes fell to the girl from earlier, the one who had kissed him outside of the morgue. He scoffed, shaking his head. "Oh, no, no, no, not right now, sweetheart," he told her as she came closer. "Come on, keep walking, I—"

But she completely bypassed Dean without giving him a second glance and pushed Sam up against the wall with little effort, an obvious sign that he hadn't been expecting it at all. She kissed him, the same way that she had Dean, but Sam didn't respond. He stood there as though just waiting for her to finish up what she was doing and move on, looking to his brother for help.

She pulled back and looked over her shoulder at Dean. "I want him now," she said bluntly. "He's larger."

Dean's eyebrows shot up as she walked away from them. Haley snorted a laugh, as though it was the funniest thing she could ever have witnessed, while Sam stood speechless against the wall. "Hm," Dean shrugged at his brother. "Well, you've had worse."

Sam rolled his eyes, choosing to ignore the comment. "Alright, it's mealtime, so everyone should be in the patient lounge, meaning the doctor should be around somewhere. We'll have to find him before the patients and the rest of the staff are back out here." He paused and looked to Martin. "All four of us."

"What?" Martin's face fell. "No."

"Martin," Dean warned. "We gotta get past the security, past the orderlies, and then cut the boss-man's throat, okay? It's gonna suck from start to finish but we could use the backup."

Martin shook his head. "No, I can't. I can't." He turned to walk away, but Sam stopped him.

"We know what happened in Albuquerque." he called after him, stopping him in his tracks.

Martin slowly turned back to face them. "You don't know the half of it." he whispered. "My god, I used to be just like you two. I used to think I was invincible, and then...well, I found out I'm not."

"Martin," Haley gave a soft sigh. "You're still a hunter."

"No, I'm not." He took a step back from them. "I'm useless. Why do you think I checked myself into the Hotel California? I'd give anything to help you, I would...But I—I can't. I'm sorry. I can't." He turned from them once again and walked away quickly.

Sam shook his head slowly. "Looks like it's just us." he muttered. "You guys take the east wing, I'll take the west."

Haley and Dean nodded before turning and heading off in the opposite direction, leaving him alone. He turned and walked silently down the hallway, the silver letter opener held out ahead of him at the ready, like he was just waiting to be attacked. He came to the end of the corridor and peered around the corner, seeing Doctor Fuller heading towards him. He glanced back over his shoulder to see that his brother and sister had already gone, and sighed, standing up against the wall, out of sight, waiting.

As he heard the footsteps getting closer he gripped his weapon tighter. Sam stepped forwards as he rounded the corner and slashed the blade down his arm, cutting through the skin enough for his blood to run to the floor beneath them. Doctor Fuller moved backwards as Sam took another swing at him. Two orderlies grabbed him and tried to drag him away, but he was too far gone to stop. He struggled against them and managed to throw one of them away before punching the other in the face, knocking him to the ground unconscious. As the first man straightened up again, he pushed him and smashed his head through the window beside him, shattering the glass and knocking him flat out. With them out of the way, Sam tackled the doctor to the ground and raised the blade to him, just as Martin appeared behind him to grab his arm.

"Sam! Look at his arm!" he yelled, making sure to get through to him. "That cut isn't burning! It's not him!" Sam looked down at the gash on the doctor's arm and frowned, still holding the blade above him, ready to stab. "It's not him!" Martin pushed, a little harsher. Sam slowly seemed to realise what was happening and a look of shock washed through his face as he dropped the blade to the ground beside him.

At the sound of glass smashing, Haley had sprinted back to where Sam had been, while Dean had continued searching the other side of the hospital. She ran down the other side of the hallway right as Martin had grabbed him.

Haley stepped back before they saw her and ducked around the corner. What the hell had just happened? Sam had been out of control, there hadn't been any stopping him there. Another second and the doctor would have been dead. It was only then that she realised how off the both of them had been since they had arrived there. At first she had thought it had just been nerves, or that they were worried about her, or something to do with the apocalypse, but she was starting to think that it was something more. There was something happening to them there. It was almost like they were going crazy right in front of her, and there was nothing that she could do to stop it. What was she supposed to do? How was she supposed to help them? How was she supposed to finish the case if her brothers were slowly slipping out of sanity?

Haley closed her eyes and let out a deep breath as the back of her head hit the wall. "Fuck."

* * *

><p><em>So, like I said at the end of the last chapter, we're back on with season five now!<em>

_Next chapter should be pretty obvious, it's going to be the second half of this episode, only with a lot more insight into Sam and Dean's (temporary) insanity. And then chapter fourteen is going to be a very different one, a lot of Sam/Haley/Dean stuff in there, as well as some Cas/Haley, too._

_Also, this week I decided to get back onto my instagram account! I don't know if any of you followed it when I used to post about my other stories, but if you're interested I've decided to go back to and restart it and I'll be posting on there 100% everything about this account and the fics on here. As well as that I'm also on tumblr as well with a page for my fanfiction account. Both accounts post things like gifs, pictures, previews, extracts and update information from all of my stories, and basically just keeps you in the loop with what is going on. So, the links to both are in my bio on my account page if you are interested in following either. And thank you to those of you who already do! ;-)_

_As always, thank you so much for reading, you have no idea how much I appreciate your support! I hope you enjoyed, and don't forget to leave a review._

_NEXT UPADTE WILL BE FRIDAY—NO EXCUSES! Have a great weekend, guys! :-)_


	13. Who's To Say That We're Really Sane?

_As always, I'll start off by saying a huge thank you to everyone for reading and reviewing the last chapter, and to my new followers and those of you who have favourited, your support means the world!_

_Hope you enjoy! :-)_

* * *

><p><span><strong>Saving Grace<strong>

**Chapter Thirteen: Who's To Say That We're Really Sane?**

_Glenwood Springs Psychiatric Hospital — Ketchum, Oklahoma_

Dean moved silently down the hallway of the now deserted hospital, being sure that he didn't make a sound to alert anyone of his presence. A good ten minutes had passed since Haley had turned and sprinted off in the direction of the sound of smashing, and she hadn't come back since. He was starting to wonder what had gone on. But he didn't let that distract him from the task at hand. He steadied the silver letter opener out in front of him, ready to attack anyone or anything that should jump out at him.

He almost leaped out of his skin as he felt cold fingers close around his wrist, and someone pulled him to a halt. He whipped around, weapon gripped tight and ready to fight, to be met by the perplexed face of his younger sister.

"Haley," He breathed a short sigh of relief and lowered his arms to his sides. "What the hell are you doing sneaking around like that?" he snapped, clearly not impressed with her.

Haley raised an eyebrow at him. "Are your defensive reflexes always this pathetic, or..." she trailed off and tilted her head to the side, studying him. "What's going on with you today?"

Dean rolled his eyes, dismissing her question as sarcasm, but she frowned. Something was just off about him, he didn't appear to be at his game here, and, the more she thought about it, neither did Sam. The place seemed to be getting to both of them. Great, that was all she needed, her brothers going nuts.

"The hell happened to Sam?" Dean asked her, the concern returning to his voice.

"You should've seen him, Dean," Haley shook her head, and he saw the fear in her eyes. "He was gone."

Dean frowned. "How'd you mean?"

"I don't know," she answered honestly. She had never seen him like that before. She wasn't aware that he held that level of rage within him. "He cut the doctor and nothing happened, but he just...didn't stop. I mean, if Martin hadn't been there to pull him back then—"

"Wait," Dean stopped her. "Did you just say nothing happened? The doctor isn't a wraith?" Haley reluctantly shook her head, choosing not to comment, but he didn't look convinced. "Hales, come on, you were stood right there when he walked past, you saw it, right? In the mirror."

"Dean, what are you talking about?" She looked genuinely confused. "I wasn't standing with you."

Dean scoffed. "What about all that stuff you said? About the apocalypse and...everything."

Haley's face fell. "What the hell are you talking about?" She looked worried now, as though he was scaring her. "Dean—"

"Forget it." he cut her off, because he didn't want to think any further into it. She had to be faking, there was no way she didn't remember. How could she not? But that wasn't his main concern anymore. "Come on," he coaxed. "We need to find Sam."

Haley just nodded, everything else suddenly forgotten at the thought of her younger brother. The image of him so angry, with so much rage in his eyes, it had burned into her mind. She couldn't let it go, she couldn't un-see it. And it scared her, it really did. Because she hadn't known that was inside him. Dean, maybe. But not Sam. He was too soft, too caring. That was the only side she had ever really seen of him. The one where he cared about everyone else, never himself. Not the one where he was so blinded by rage he couldn't control his own actions. When had that happened?

The two of them came to a stop outside of Sam's room, giving a short look between each other before Dean pushed open the door and stepped inside, closely followed by Haley. Sam was sitting up against the wall on his bed, from where they stood he looked as though he was sitting in a drunken stupor, unfocused on anything. Tentative, Haley closed the door behind herself and moved towards the bed, looking over him closely. There was definitely something wrong.

"You okay?" Dean asked him, frowning. He stood beside his bed while Haley moved to sit down on the edge of the mattress next to him.

"No," Sam shook his head. "No, I am not okay." His voice was slurred and gravely. "I—I am..._awesome_..."

Everything seemed to click between them at his words, and Haley scoffed. "They give you something?"

"Oh yeah," Sam nodded, his eyes wide and looking around the room as he spoke. "They gave me..._everything_. It's spectacu-lacular." he laughed.

Dean shook his head, bemused. "You always were a happy drunk." he grumbled.

Sam's face suddenly grew so much more serious at his words, as though Dean had just reminded him of his presence. He reached out and grabbed Dean's forearm, pulling him down sharply to eye level. "Dean...the doctor...wasn't a wraith."

"I know." Dean muttered. Sam looked to be comically stunned that he already knew, and Dean sighed, refusing to look at either of his siblings. "I don't understand it. I mean, I saw it in the mirror, it _wasn't_ human."

"Or, you're seeing things." Sam spoke up, raising his eyebrows at Dean. "Maybe—maybe—maybe you're going crazy."

"I'm not crazy." Dean told him, his voice hard and confident.

"Well," Sam shrugged. "I mean, come on, you've been at least..._half_ crazy...for a long time, and since you got back from hell, or since before that, even. Probably since Haley. I mean, we're in a—we're in a mental hospital." He laughed, like it was the funniest thing in the world. "Maybe—maybe you finally _cracked_! You know, maybe now you are really...for real...crazy..."

"I made a mistake." Dean told him firmly. "That's all. I'll find the thing."

"Okay," Sam nodded vigorously, as though suddenly concerned that he had upset his brother. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. I know." He reached up and rested a hand to Dean's shoulder, and Dean only looked down and glared at the contact. "It's okay," he assured. "Hey, hey, look at me." Dean looked up to Sam's face, stern. "It's okay...because you're my brother...and I still love ya..."

Dean nodded, as though he wasn't sure what else he could do. Haley choked back a laugh, the whole scene nothing but amusing to her. Before Dean could get a word out, Sam reached up and poked at his nose, a childlike grin on his face. "Bop!"

Dean stared at him, lost, the hard frown on his face never loosening. He shook his head slowly, he knew that they needed to get the hell out of there before one of them really did lose it. He didn't feel right, he hadn't done since they had walked through those doors that morning. The faster they killed the thing and got the hell away from everything there, the better.

"Alright," he sighed and looked to Haley. "Looks like it's just you and me, kiddo."

Haley nodded. "You wanna go back to checking the mirrors?" she suggested, not knowing what else she could say. They still needed to find out who it was, and she really was trying to believe that Dean had just made an honest mistake, that he had seen something and gotten the wrong idea. She wasn't exactly sure what she thought he could've seen to mistake for a wraith, but that was all she could go on, because she didn't want to believe that Dean really was crazy. He couldn't be.

Dean clapped his brother on the shoulder before the two of them stepped out of the room and looked up and down the hallway. Dean sighed, shaking his head. "You wanna take the entrance again, I'll take the patient lounge?" he asked, and she nodded in agreement. As she turned to walk away, Dean stopped her. "Haley, be careful." he warned. "I mean it."

"Yeah," she nodded, eyeing him warily, still clearly more concerned about him than herself. "You, too." He nodded and turned to head off down the corridor, the same as she did, and headed to the lounge.

"Dean!" He hadn't even gotten around the corner before he heard her voice again. He stopped and turned around to see Haley heading towards him briskly, a new found spring in her step.

She had that look on her face, the one she had been wearing earlier, and he couldn't take another conversation like that with her. Not a chance. "Look, Haley, I'm not in the mood to mess around, alright?" he muttered. "This is gonna work quicker if we split up, the sooner we know who it is the sooner we're out of this place."

Haley merely chuckled at him, shaking her head as though his comments couldn't have meant less to her. "You know, we could just leave," she suggested, beginning to walk down the hall, and he had no option but to walk with her. "I mean, people die all the time, right? Who's gonna know the difference?"

Dean stared at her, unsure of how to answer that one. "What the hell has happened to you?" He shook his head in disbelief. "You know what, Haley, if you don't wanna do this job, fine, you don't have to. How about you just let me get on with it, let me save your life, too, while I'm at it."

Haley scoffed. "Oh, Dean, it's not my life I'm worried about."

Dean sighed, exasperated. "Oh, my G—I am fine. Okay?" he snapped. "I'm fine."

An orderly sorting out laundry further up the hallway looked up at him, and Dean only glared, as if to warn him not to even try getting involved. It never served well for anyone to get involved in a dispute between him and his sister.

Haley chuckled darkly. "Come on, even you don't believe that." she said knowingly. "All this pressure that you're putting yourself under, all this guilt, it's _killing_ you. You can't save everyone, bro, you just can't." Her face became hard and her voice went low. "Hell, these days you can't save anybody, can you, Dean?"

Dean's eyes widened a little at that last comment, for a moment he wasn't sure that he'd heard her right. "What did you say?"

Haley shook her head at him, like everything really was laughable. "The truth, Dean." she said harshly. "You got Ellen and Jo killed. You shot Lucifer, but you couldn't gank him." Dean took a step away from her, confused. That wasn't a tone he knew his sister to have. He didn't know what to say. She had always been the one on his side, she had never been like that. "You couldn't stop Sam from killing Lilith, you broke the first seal, you started the apocalypse, Dean." she scoffed. "I mean, did you really think that _you_—Dean Winchester with a GED and a give-'em-hell attitude—were gonna beat the devil? Please."

Dean looked afraid of her, backing away slowly. There was a fear in him that he had never felt, and he didn't know where it was coming from. It had to be the hospital, there was no other explanation. Or, maybe it was her. He could take a beating from anyone, he could take the verbal bashings and hateful remarks from any creature that walked the earth. But not from her. And not from Sam. Every word that left her mouth felt like a betrayal, because she was always the one to take his side, always the one there to defend him and tell him that everything was going to be alright. What had made her suddenly turn on him like that? Why would she say those things to him? What the hell did he do?

Almost like she had read his mind, Haley laughed, full on laughed. "What did you do?" she repeated, incredulous. And that's when he really knew, something _was_ wrong there. Really wrong. "You killed me, Dean. You promised to protect me, and you failed. Everything that happened that night was on you." She stepped forwards, shaking her head at him. "This world is going to burn, and it's all on you. There's nothing you can do about it." she smirked. "How does it feel to know you've killed six _billion_ people?"

"What the hell has happened to you?" he asked, not bothering to hide the hurt from his voice.

"Hey," The orderly down the hallway looked up again as Dean raised his voice to her. "Settle down."

Dean ignored him, his eyes fixed on his sister. "Who are you?" he asked her quietly. "You're not Haley, who the _hell_ are you?!"

The orderly walked around the laundry cart to get a better look at what was going on. Slowly, he approached Dean. "I said, settle down." he told him again, this time a little firmer, but apprehensive all the same, as though he anticipated that he was dangerous.

But Dean's eyes still refused to leave her. "Who are you?" he asked again, his voice falling quieter than it had been, yet still demanding a response.

The man stepped closer, looking right at Dean. "Pal, there's nobody there."

That was enough to grab Dean's attention. He looked from him to Haley, and the twisted smile that had formed on her face at his words. "I'm not real, Dean." she grinned. "I'm in your head...because you really are going crazy."

Dean stepped back, his eyes wide in horror as he stared ahead at her. He looked up and down the hallway, before his gaze fell back to the empty spot where she had been standing. He looked to the orderly, watching him intently, as he really did begin to fear for his sanity. "Just," he shook his head, he didn't know what to do. "Leave me alone." he muttered as he stalked past him and headed down the corridor, not sure where he was going. He just had to get away from there.

He tried to ignore the people around him as he passed, refusing to look anyone in the face. He passed a mirror as he went, and looking up at it he saw the two patients standing behind him looked like wraiths. Freaked, he passed by them and caught the reflection of a doctor and nurse in the window behind them to see that they, too, looked like wraiths. He pushed past them and headed for the end of the hall, needing to get away. He tried to open a door but it was locked, he felt like there was no escape. Falling back against the wall, panting, he squeezed his eyes closed, refusing to open them again. He didn't know what to do.

* * *

><p><em>Meanwhile — outside<em>

Haley heaved a sigh as she watched another person pass her by, their reflection proving them to be nothing supernatural as she looked at the mirror above the doors. That was only the third person to pass her in the space of fifteen minutes, and she was starting to think that it might have been more productive for her to stand with Dean, because at least there were people there. She shuddered at the cool breeze that blew past her as the temperature began to lower with the sun. It had to be one of the longest days she had ever lived, and that was saying something.

Deciding that there was no one else about to show up, she decided against standing there and headed over to where she and her brothers had been sitting that morning, pulling out a pack of cigarettes as she went. There were only a couple residents still outside. One, an older woman, wild hair and big eyes, seemingly locked up in a conversation with herself, and a man, only looking to be around thirty, staring off in the distance.

"Hey, 'scuse me," She reached out and tapped him on the shoulder, and he jumped to look at her, eyes wide in shock at the contact. She held up her hands, as if to prove that she meant him no harm, and offered a small smile. "You got a light I can borrow?"

"Sorry," He appeared to relax a little and nodded. "Sure." he said, handing her a lighter.

Haley lit up her own cigarette and handed it back to him with a small smile. "Thanks." she muttered.

"Travis." He said, holding out a hand.

She took it and gave a weak shake. "Ha—I mean, Amy."

"So, what are you doing here, Amy?" he asked, sounding genuinely curious, or maybe he was just making conversation. "I mean, what did you do to get yourself locked up in a mental asylum?"

Haley opened and closed her mouth, what was she supposed to say to that? Was she supposed to lie, make something up? Or maybe she should just say that she's not crazy, but she could imagine quite a few of the people there thought the same way. "I'm hunting a monster." she said calmly, unsure of whether he would accept it or not.

"Hm," He narrowed his eyes. "You don't seem crazy enough to be in here."

Haley exhaled the smoke and chuckled. "I wouldn't be so sure about that." she muttered.

For all she knew she was going exactly the same way that her brothers were. Dean was loosing it, she knew that, she could see it, there was no longer any denying that one. It had been happening to him ever since he had walked through those doors that morning. It had been evident in his sudden apprehension towards the job, how things that normally seemed nothing to him suddenly phased him. And Sam, she didn't even want to think about what was going on with him. She prayed to god that the anger she had seen in him earlier was just down to the hospital, that he was being held under the same thing—whatever it was—as Dean, and that his behaviour was a result of the the hunt. But she wasn't all that sure. That seemed a lot of rage to have built up overnight, she just hoped it wasn't something that was going to come back.

The man watched as she threw her cigarette to the ground and made a move to head back to her post, watching for anyone who passed by the mirror. "I'd avoid it in there if I were you." he said simply, and she glanced back to face him, eyebrows raised in curiosity. "The new guy was having a crazy spell when I came outside."

Haley closed her eyes for a moment, did she even want to ask? "Which new guy?" she questioned, realising that neither name would surprise her at this point.

He shrugged, nonchalant. "Tall guy, hair." he muttered.

"When you say crazy spell...?" she trailed off and raised a brow at him.

"Oh, you should have seen him," He shook his head, thinking back. "Shouting at no one, throwing punches at air...the whole nine. Totally lost it."

"Oh, _awesome_." she muttered, shaking her head to herself as she turned and began running back to the hospital, the wraith suddenly at the back of her mind. She sprinted inside, just in time to see Sam being dragged down the hallway by two of the orderlies, kicking and shouting as he went. "What the—" But she stopped herself, deciding that she needed to find Dean, and headed towards the patient lounge.

There were only a few patients still left there, standing around towards the edges of the room, she assumed where they had been standing when they had witnessed Sam's outburst. Biting back a comment she shook her head and glanced around slowly, about to turn and leave when she spotted Dean sitting alone in the darkened corner of the room. Her eyes went wide at the sight of him, because the man sitting there looked nothing like her brother. He looked afraid, vulnerable, and his hands were visibly shaking in front of him. He looked terrified.

Tentative, she crossed the room towards him, watching him closely. He didn't look away from where his eyes were fixed on the table in front of him, focused there as though his life depended upon it, because he could sense her coming, and he didn't like it. He couldn't take it all, not again. Seeing what had happened to Sam had been bad enough, he couldn't take another verbal beat down from a sister who wasn't really there.

"Dean?" Too late, there she was. He slowly managed to face her, taking every ounce of strength left in him, and all he saw in her eyes was anger, hatred, loathing, all aimed straight at him. He didn't answer, just watched as she moved to sit in the seat opposite him, glaring at him. "It was all your fault, you know." She spoke slowly, her voice calm now, and Dean frowned. "What just happened to Sam," she clarified. "I mean, do you really think if you'd left him at Stanford, where he was happy, if you'd stayed away from him like he wanted you to...do you think he'd be going crazy in a nut house right now? Do you think he'd ever have been killed? That he would have lost everyone he has?" Haley smiled darkly. "You know what else was your fault? You know someone else's life you completely _fucked_?" Dean didn't reply. "Mine. Everything that night was your fault. And, you can blame Cas, you can blame that demon, you can even blame dad, but truth is, it's all on you, Dean."

Dean shook his head. "Haley—"

"You should have saved me." she cut him off before he had the chance to speak. "You should have been there to protect me. I'm your sister. You _promised_ me."

He nodded, looking down at his hands. "I know," he whispered. "And I'm sorry."

"Yeah," Haley scoffed. "You are. But, I mean, at least I got an apology, right? I mean, did you ever apologise to anyone else you had killed? Did you tell dad you were sorry when he sold his soul for you? Did you tell Ellen and Jo you were sorry when they killed themselves to help you? Did you tell Sam that you were sorry for dragging him away from Stanford that night?"

Dean couldn't listen to anymore. She knew exactly what buttons to press, and she was slamming them all at once, hard enough to have him right on the edge. His fists were clenched on the table in front of him as he tried to bite back his anger, but it was no use.

"Just, shut up." Dean finally snapped at her. When he looked up to her again, she had changed. Her face was soft, her eyes wide and almost afraid that he had raised his voice. "You're not real." he whispered. "You're not real."

"Dean," she almost pleaded with him, and a hand pressed firmly to his left cheek, forcing him back into focus, holding him there to look at her. She wasn't sitting across from him anymore, she was leaning right over him, looking fearful. "Have you been listening to a word I'm saying to you?" She had the feeling the two of them were having entirely different conversations.

"You're not real." he said again, his voice still shaky, he couldn't look at her.

Haley looked down at him like she wanted to burst into tears. "Dean, please," she whispered. "I'm real, okay? I'm right here. It's me." The words seemed to sink into his head, because this time they weren't filled with venom, her voice was soft. "Hey," She gripped his arm tightly. "You with me?"

His eyes slowly moved up to find hers, and for the first time he felt as though he was really talking to his sister. She was there. "Haley," He shook head head. "What the hell is happening to us?"

"Dean," Haley sighed, unsure of how to answer. "What—"

"We're going crazy." he told her, his voice suddenly serious. "Haley, Sam and me, we're loosin' it."

Haley closed her eyes for a moment, because she knew that it was true, she knew that something was happening, but she couldn't admit it. She wouldn't. The last thing Dean needed was to be told that he was insane, that Sam was insane. "You're not loosing it, okay?" she said firmly. "You're gonna be fine, Dean. But we need to find this wraith. We need to get out of here."

Crazy or not, Dean agreed with her on that one. He really did. Nodding, he pushed himself up from the chair, still slightly shaky, and steadied himself. "Where's Martin?" he asked, looking around. "Maybe—maybe he knows something else? Maybe there's another way to find these things." he suggested, hopeful.

Haley nodded, because with the day getting later and later, the patient lounge was getting quieter and quieter, and without the mirror positioned on the ceiling in there, they had no other way to check anyone. And the last thing they wanted was to have to spend the night in that place, she wasn't sure they would make it. "I think he went to his room." she muttered, nodding for him to follow her as she turned to leave the lounge, her brother right behind her.

"Haley," Dean sighed. "I need you to know, I'm sorry. Everything you said, you were right. What happened to you was my fault. What happened to all of them was my fault."

She looked up at him as they walked, lost, because she knew she hadn't said anything even close to that, ever. "What are you talking about?"

Dean frowned, and then realised, it _hadn't_ been her. Not really. "Look, I'm just sorry, okay?"

Haley wasn't sure what to say, she didn't know what the hell had been going on in his head, or what had prompted him to say that, or to think that she hadn't been real, she didn't want to think about it. She gave him a soft look, shaking her head to herself. "I know you are." she replied simply. "But I keep telling you, Dean, you don't need to be. Because it wasn't your fault, there was nothing you could've done. I'll never blame you for that. Ever."

Dean looked down at her, and he could the sincerity in her eyes at her words. It wasn't exactly the response he had wanted, because maybe he did want her to be angry with him. Maybe that would make it better? If he could finally take the blame he had placed on himself for so long. He had thought it would go away, that now she was back there and everything was fine again, maybe that crushing weight he had carried with him for years would fade away, but it hadn't. He still couldn't stop thinking about it, about everything that had happened that night, hell, lately it had been an even harder thought to push away. He could barely look at her without being reminded of how he had, in his mind, let her down. And yet, she didn't seem to care. She appeared to have moved past it, blame free.

The thoughts seemed to leave her as they came to a stop outside of Martin's room. She quietly opened the door and stepped inside to find him sleeping on the bed, fitfully. She gave a small sigh, knowing in the back of her mind that it was the life that had done that to him. It was years of hunting, saving people's lives without thanks, that had left him so disturbed he couldn't sleep properly at night. And she knew, one day, that might be where they ended up.

Dean closed the door behind them, a little too loud, and Martin lunged up, the silver blade in his hand, inches from Haley's neck. Dean stilled in shock behind her, eyes wide and hands held up in surrender, panicking more than anyone else in the room. "Martin, it's us." he murmured, his voice small, threatened.

"Oh," He looked between them slowly and lowered the blade. "Sorry." His eyes fell back to Dean as he rested a hand to his forehead, exasperated, and a small frown formed at his brow. "You—you look like hell, boy."

Dean nodded in agreement. "I—I feel like it, too." he mumbled.

Martin frowned a little, as if suddenly noticing that something was wrong. "Where's Sam?"

"Lockdown," Dean told him, his voice urgent but hushed. "He went _crazy_! I'm going crazy, too. I mean, I—I'm seeing things, I'm hearing things. We both are."

He looked from Dean to Haley and raised his eyebrows expectantly. "What about you?" he asked.

Haley shook her head. "Completely sane." she muttered. "For now."

At those words, Dean snapped his fingers, as though he had suddenly realised something important. "Crazy is the clue!"

Haley and Martin looked between each other, confused, before they looked back to him. "Huh?" Dean opened his mouth to explain but stopped and stared off to the other side of the room, like something had caught his eye there and he just couldn't look away. Even more confused, Haley snapped her fingers in his face. "Dude."

Dean jolted back into focus and turned to face them again. "Crazy is the clue!" he repeated, in the same urgent tone he had used the first time.

"You said that," Martin pressed. "What?"

Dean thought for a moment. "I mean, the things that me and Sam have done, the stuff that we've seen, we're gonna end up going guano eventually. Probably end up like a couple of drooling nut bags." He stopped as if he had realised what he'd said and looked to Martin. "No offense."

Martin shook his head. "None taken."

"But, me and him freaking out on the same day?" Dean continued. "I mean, it's gotta be—"

"The monster." Martin finished for him, and Dean jumped, whipping around, freaked.

"What?" His eyes scanned the room frantically, suddenly panicked, his movements fast enough that he had even managed to make Haley jump as he ducked down at the side of the bed. "Where?"

"No—it's not—Dean," Martin shook his head. "There's nothing there."

Dean looked back to him and closed his eyes. "Okay," He released a long, calming breath and nodded, composing himself. "Okay, what if this thing doesn't just _feed_ on the insane? What if it _makes_ people insane?" He glanced between them, clearly doubting himself and looking for clarification or reassurance. "Is that possible? Does that seem real?"

Haley thought about it for a moment, and it was the most logical thing any of them had thought up so far. "Yeah," she said quietly. "Yeah, you might be right there."

"Okay," Dean took her agreement and spoke with a little more confidence. "Okay, so we got infected...you know, something shot us up with crazy. Something..." He trailed off as a thought suddenly came to him, and his face dropped. "Maybe...maybe it's the ghost of my dad..."

"No." Martin stopped him firmly. "Focus on the wraith, Dean. Focus."

"Right," Dean snapped out of it, shaking the idea from his head and thinking back to the task at hand. "The wraith...the wraith..." he nodded and straightened himself up again. "Okay...so, it—it poisoned us. Maybe with venom...you know? By—by touch...or—or venom...or saliva." He froze as a look of realisation washed right through him. "Wendy."

Haley and Martin just looked at him, confused. "Wendy?"

"Wendy." Dean repeated, a little more forcefully. "Wendy slobbered all over me _and_ Sam. That's how we got infected! _And_, it explains why nothing is happening to Haley."

Haley narrowed her eyes at him. "Yeah," she nodded. "That makes sense."

"Come on," Dean instructed, suddenly much more driven. "Her room's down the hall. Let's go."

"Do I even wanna ask how you know where Wendy's room is?" Haley asked, quirking an eyebrow at him suggestively.

Dean scoffed. "I might have made a mental note." he replied defensively. "You know, just in case."

"Sure." Haley rolled her eyes at him. "Whatever you say, Dean. Come on."

The three of them headed silently out of Martin's room and back to the deserted hallway. They looked around cautiously to make sure that there was no one around and began walking towards Wendy's room. Truthfully, none of them could wait until the whole job was just done with. Haley wanted out of there before Sam or Dean really did crack, before it got to a point that they couldn't leave. They rounded a corner and that's when Haley and Martin noticed how awkwardly Dean was walking, stepping in seemingly specific spots of the tiled floor. Martin frowned down at his feet, while Haley raised her eyebrows at him questioningly. "Dude?"

The three of them stood where they were, never moving, and looked between each other. "I—I can't step on the cracks." Dean muttered, his voice a low and paranoid whisper.

Haley opened her mouth to say something, she wasn't sure what, but stopped as a woman's scream echoed from somewhere down the hallway. They hurried towards the sound without giving anything else a second thought, silver blades gripped in their hands. Stopping outside of her room, Haley looked to Dean, who simply shrugged at her, as if to say he didn't know what she expected him to do. Giving an exasperated sigh, she shook her head at him and brought up her leg to kick in the door.

Inside, they immediately found Wendy lying on her bed, wrists slit and small pools of blood beginning to form on the otherwise white sheets beneath her. Above her sat one of the hospital nurses, the same one that had checked in Sam and Dean. They all looked over towards the mirror at the opposite side of the room and caught her refection, which instantly gave away that she wasn't human. Dean looked from the mirror to the nurse and then to Haley, suddenly doubting. "Is this real?" he urged.

The nurse smiled at them and withdrew her hand from where it was rested against the side of Wendy's head. As she did, they saw a long spike sticking out of her wrist, forced deep within her head from behind her ear, the same place that the hole had been on the body they had looked at earlier. They looked on in disgust as she pulled it out and brought it up to lick clean, before it retracted back into her wrist. "Oh, it is, Sugar." she grinned at Dean. "It's very real."

She slowly pushed herself to stand and cracked a smile as she looked between them. Dean, finding some inner strength, stepped forwards, as if to challenge her, but with one simple hit she had him flying back against the wall behind. Instinctively, Haley and Martin moved towards her. Haley pulled back a fist and hit her in the face, knocking her back slightly. Temporarily dazed, Martin lunged forward and made an attempt to stab her, but she turned and threw him back into the hallway.

Haley looked away from him and got a better grip of her weapon and she moved towards her again. The wraith punched her back harder and send her back into the wall beside Dean, the blade falling from her hand. She dragged her up by her hair and landed another hard punch to Haley's face, and then another, and another, until she punched her hard enough that she fell from her own grip and slumped down to the floor again with a bloody nose and lip.

Dean managed to straighten himself up again and threw a punch to her, only to get one thrown back with even more force. The wraith grabbed him around the throat and pinned him against the wall, punching him over and over again until he could barely see. Somewhere outside, Martin regained his composure and forced his way back into the room. He grabbed a firm hold of her and slashed her hand with his silver blade, the cut on her hand burned and the skin around it crackled. She screamed in pain and backed away from him quickly before running from the room and pulling the door closed firmly behind herself, locking them in.

Martin could see that Dean was out of it, the crazy was really starting to take its toll on him, and Haley was more than disoriented with the blows she had taken from the wraith. Neither of them looked as though they were with it. He turned to the bed and leaned over Wendy, studying her face intently, and, after a moment, she blinked. "She's still alive." he told them, breathing a sigh of relief. "Dean! Haley! Can you hear me?!" he yelled over at them, but only Haley glanced up in recognition. "You've gotta get out there and kill that thing! I'll take care of her."

Haley nodded slowly and forced herself to turn to Dean, grabbing his arm. "Dean, come on."

He turned to her, barely making out her face through his fragmented vision, and shook his head slowly. Martin was saying something from the other side of the room, but neither voices made sense to him, the words rang in his ears but he couldn't make sense of what they were. "I—I can't."

Haley felt lightheaded, and that's when everything made sense—Dean had been right, all the wraith had to do to make someone crazy was touch them, and she had just touched her. It was only a matter of time before she cracked the same as her brothers were. They needed to finish it. "Dean," she tried again, moving to sit up and pulling his arm with her. "We have to. We don't have a choice. We need to find Sam."

Before Dean could even think of an answer, the door to the room was once again forced open, and two orderlies barged inside. The first thing they saw there was Martin and Wendy, and so both lunged to grab a firm hold of him. Dean and Haley, still hidden behind the open door, looked between each other and nodded briefly, coming to the consensus that they had to move. Taking his hand, Haley pulled him up with her and the two of them ran from the room, unseen.

Dean staggered through the hallway, barely able to see, and fell against the wall. Everything was spinning around him, the bright lights above seeming to burn his vision, making it impossible to see anything. He looked down to the floor, and soon his knees followed his gaze. He couldn't even hear his sister talking to him, couldn't even see her until she was crouching down right in front of him, her eyes searching his face desperately. "Dean," she urged. "Come on, you can't stay here. We need to go."

He shook his head slowly, squeezing his eyes closed as he tried to focus on something, on anything. "Hales—"

"Dean, I need you, okay? I can't do this on my own." Her hand tightened around his wrist, as if she could pull him back into reality. There was suddenly a fear in her eyes that he hadn't seen before. "I need my brother."

And that was when he knew that he had to move.

* * *

><p><em>Meanwhile<em>

Sam struggled against the confinements holding his wrists at either side of his head, and the ones holding down his ankles at the bottom of his bed. He lay in the center of a padded room, staring up at the white ceiling as he fought against his bindings. It only took a second for his mind to wander back to Dean and Haley, and for him to realise just how much danger they were probably in. Thinking back to what had happened, he knew just how crazy things had gotten for him, and therefore Dean. He didn't know about Haley, he hadn't seen her since before he had attacked the doctor. But, as far as he knew, the wraith was still there somewhere, and his brother and sister were still looking for it. And there was nothing he could do to help them.

He looked up as the door at the end of the room opened, and inside stepped the nurse from earlier, the one who had checked in him and Dean. "Hey!" Sam shouted. He didn't care anymore, he needed to find his siblings. "Let me go!"

The nurse tutted, shaking her head. "No," she smiled down at him and placed her hands on her hips. "You are far too angry to be out there in the real world."

Her eyes moved away from him and up to the ceiling purposely, and he followed her gaze to where his eyes met hers in the mirror. He saw the same thing that Dean and Haley had seen earlier, and his eyes went wide at the sight of her true form. "You." he stated, frowning, as though asking himself why they hadn't realised sooner. She had been right in front of them the whole time.

The wraith laughed at him. "Of course,it's me." She looked back to him and smiled. "I gotta say, you hunters don't exactly live up to your rep." She slowly circled the bed as she spoke, and Sam never let her leave his sight as he continued to struggle against his restraints. He realised, it wasn't Dean and Haley who were in danger anymore, it was him. Until something else crossed his mind, what if she had already dealt with them. They could both be dead for all he knew. But he couldn't afford to let his mind go there. "I mean, Martin's a wreck..." she continued, unaware of Sam's thoughts. "He's harmless. And you and your brother and sister come in here, talking tough about killing monsters...kind of made you easy to spot...and then, all it look was a touch...and you were mine."

Sam frowned at her, and then it all sank into his head. From the moment she had laid a hand on him, the second he had checked into that hospital, he had been gone. They hadn't stood a chance, none of them who entered there did. He continued to tug against his holds in vain, knowing somewhere in the back of his mind that he couldn't get out of them alone, that was what they were designed for. But he had to try.

"Oh, I love it in here!" The wraith grinned and crouched down at the head of his bed. "This place is my own personal five star restaurant." She trailed a finger across his forehead, even as he jerked away from her touch, before she brought it to her mouth and licked it, groaning. "Crazy brains," she pondered, trailing another finger over his skin. "They get soaked in dopamine and adrenaline and all sorts of hormones and chemicals that make them...delicious." She smiled and licked her fingers again. "And the crazier they are, the better they taste."

Sam pulled tighter at his wrists. "You did this to me!" he accused, his tone hard, angry.

"Well, I helped." The wraith shook her head. "But that rage? No, no, no. That's all you." She stood up and walked around the bed again, until she was sitting beside him. "I don't make crazy, I just crank up what's already there. You build your own hell...but I give you the Legos. And when you're ripe," She smirked as the spike in her arm showed itself, right beside Sam's neck. "I make all of your problems disappear."

The wraith forcefully pushed Sam's head to the side, exposing his neck, and brought the spike closer to the skin there. He could feel the end of it pushing against his flesh, almost certain to break through, when the door flew open. Haley stormed inside first, while Dean staggered slightly behind her, looking as though he was struggling to stand on his own two feet. Sam felt himself breathe out in relief at the sight of them, and he wasn't sure if that was due to the fact he didn't have a spike in his brain or the fact that they were both alive.

Dean blinked hard to get a more focused look at what was going on around him. He saw a blurred and shaky image of the wraith sitting beside his brother, and that was enough. "You get away from him." he grumbled.

The wraith chuckled and stood to face them. "Do you really think this is gonna end well for you, kiddo?" She smirked and glanced at Haley. "For either of you?"

"No," Dean smirked and pulled out his silver blade. "But we're crazy, so what the hell?" he grinned.

The wraith smiled to herself and raised her hand, showing them as the spike went back down into her arm. Dean was the first to swing at her, but she ducked easily and threw him against the wall. Haley grabbed a hold of her and punched her hard in the face, twice. She ducked a punch and landed another hit to her jaw, sending her back a few steps with a new level of rage in her eyes. Sam watched on helpless from where he lay on the bed, admittedly a little taken aback by the fight that Haley still had in her, especially after twelve years, it seemed that she hadn't forgotten her training at all.

Seeing that Haley was on her own, Dean pushed himself up again and lunged for the wraith. Haley took the opportunity to move to Sam's bed and begin to remove the restraints to his ankles. Sam watched as the wraith pushed Dean against another wall and pinned him there by the throat. He grabbed her hand and attempted to push her away, while she raised her other and smirked as the spike came out from her wrist, aimed directly at the front of his neck. He could feel it beginning to break through his skin, and another second was going to be enough for it to be pushed right through.

"Haley!" Sam yelled, and she looked back over her shoulder at what was going on when she heard the urgency in her brother's voice. "Help him!"

Without hesitation, she crossed the room and pulled the wraith back forcefully from Dean. More concerned with getting her away from him, she barely had time to react before the wraith turned sharply and hit Haley hard enough to send her falling face first against the metal of Sam's bed, knocking her out cold.

The wraith turned right back to Dean and pushed him even harder against the wall, this time nothing but venom in her eyes, as though this time she knew she was going to win. The spike moved towards his forehead, and Dean tried to push the arm away from him, but that only coaxed her to push the spike out a little further, almost close enough to touch him. Dean grunted with the effort at restraining her, and suddenly reached up to grab a firm hold of the spike with his other hand. Not seeing another option, and barely thinking twice about it, he broke it off. The wraith screamed in pain as she backed away from him to the other wall, holding her wrist as it poured blood. Dean looked down at the spike in his left hand and dropped it in revulsion before he grabbed the silver blade lying beside his sister on the floor. The wraith turned to him, yelling in rage, before Dean plunged it into her heart with enough force she fell back against the wall and slumped down it to the floor, still. The silver burned for a moment, and Sam and Dean continued to stare at her, their vision still breaking in fragmented pieces, before all light in her went out, and they knew that she was dead. And then, everything appeared normal again.

Sam breathed out a deep, grateful sigh, and looked to Dean warily, as if anxious to speak. "You still crazy?" he asked, clearly apprehensive.

Dean tore his eyes away from her body and looked to his brother, giving a small shake of his head. "Not any more than usual." he muttered, moving towards his bed and leaning over him as he began taking off one of Sam's wrist restraints. "We gotta get out of here."

"Yeah," Sam nodded in agreement, using his now free arm to begin taking off his other wrist restraint while Dean moved to remove the one at his left ankle.

They both looked up in shock as an alarm bell sounded throughout the room, no doubt alerting the rest of the hospital that something was going on, no doubt started by them. They paused for a moment, as if caught in surprise by the sound, before they quickly continued with what they were doing. Once he was free of his last restraint, Dean grabbed Sam's arm and hauled him up to face him. He gave him a quick look over, like he was trying to make sure that he was fine to make a break for it before he did, and nodded.

Sam's eyes fell to Haley, still lying beside the bed, unconscious, before Dean's gaze followed.

"Go, I got her." Dean told him. He reached down and picked Haley up easily, holding her in his arms as he followed Sam out of the door. They ran down the hallway to the emergency fire exit and burst through it, Dean running as fast as he could while holding his sister. They sprinted across the grass outside of the hospital and down the street, heading for where Dean had parked the Impala that morning. They rounded the corner at the end of the road and ran faster, knowing it would only be a matter of minutes before they had people searching for them.

Dean had never been more relieved to see his car in his life. Looking at it was like looking at his escape from everything that had happened in that town, everything that had gone on in that hospital. It was like his way of leaving the entire job in his past and never having to look back. Sam moved past him and opened the back door for him, and he lowered himself down and gently placed Haley into the backseat. He straightened himself up and closed the door softly, so not to disturb her, and looked to Sam, who hadn't moved.

"Sam?" he pushed, apprehensive of the look on his youngest sibling's face. "What are you doing?" he questioned, as if to ask why he wasn't already in the car ready to get the hell out of there. "Dude, you okay?"

"No," Sam slowly shook his head, as though it had been a hard thing to admit. "No, the wraith—"

"What about her?" Dean pressed impatiently, desperate to leave, not understanding why it was a conversation they couldn't have in the car as he drove top speed out of town.

"She was right." he admitted quietly.

Dean frowned at him, not too sure as to what he meant, but at the same time having to desire to find out. "No, she wasn't." he replied bluntly. "She's dead, okay? Let's hit the road. I need a drink...or twelve."

"No," Sam persisted. "I mean, who's to say that we're really sane?" he asked, and Dean frowned at him, confused. "Come on, man, look at what we do."

"Look, Sammy," Dean sighed. "We're sane enough, alright? We know what's going on, and that's good enough for me."

Sam shook his head. He clearly wasn't accepting it. "Most of the time, I can hide it, but...I am angry. I'm mad at everything." Dean stepped forwards, watching him closely. "I used to be mad at the thing that took away Haley, and then you and Dad, then Lilith, now it's Lucifer...and I make excuses...I blame Ruby, or the demon blood...but it's not their fault. It's not them. It's me. It's _inside_ me." He slowed down a little and sighed. "I'm mad...all the time...and I don't know why."

Dean looked at him, and he could see every emotion in his face. He could see the pain, the anguish, the guilt, the confusion and the self-inflicted blame. And he knew that his brother didn't need it. "Stop." he said firmly, silencing him before he could make himself feel worse, before he could get anymore wound up. "Stop it. So what if you are angry? What are you gonna do?" Sam frowned, as though he wasn't sure what he could do. "You gonna take a leave of absence? You gonna say yes to Lucifer? _What_?"

"No," Sam shook his head. "Of course not. I—"

"Exactly." Dean said before he could say anything different. "And that's exactly what you're gonna do. You're gonna take all that crap and you're gonna bury it. You're gonna forget about it, because that's how we keep going. That's how we don't end up like Martin." Sam watched him, and a part of him knew he was talking to himself at the same time. "Now, I got one kid in the backseat of this car ready to fight, I can't have one backing out. So are you with us?" Sam glanced down at Haley through the window, still passed out, and sighed. "Come on, man," Dean urged, stepping forward. "Are you with us?"

Slowly, Sam nodded. "Yeah," he whispered, and then cleared his throat in some attempt to find his voice. "I'm with you."

Dean closed his eyes, clearly relieved, because for a moment he hadn't been sure. "Good." he nodded. "Let's get the hell out of here." He climbed into the Impala, and Sam hesitated for a moment before he walked around to climb into the passenger side.

Without a word, Dean started up the car and headed off down the street, needing to get as far away from that place and the memories that came with it as he could. It wasn't something he _ever_ wanted to think about again, and he had a feeling that was a sentiment both his siblings shared.

"One hunt in, she's already saved our asses." he chuckled, breaking the tense silence that surrounded them. "I mean, hell, I was about two seconds from being brain-sucked back there." he muttered, giving a disgusted shudder at the thought of it.

Sam glanced behind himself at where Haley was unconscious in the backseat and cracked a small smile. "Yeah," he nodded slowly. "Guess the three of us make a pretty good team."

"Yeah." Dean agreed, although he sounded as though his thoughts were miles away.

Sam noticed the worried frown that had found its way to his features, and he knew that something about that bothered him. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," He shook his head. "It's just, you were right, Sam. I don't think she knows what she's getting into here. She thinks that it's just hunting, you know, like it used to be. She thinks it's still move from one town to another, gank the monster and leave. She has no idea how much danger she's in, none of us do."

Sam scoffed. "Or, she does, and she's just not letting it get to her." he suggested. "You know what Haley's like, she's tough. She'll be alright, Dean. Like you said, we won't let anything happen to her."

Somewhere, that was enough for him. It had to be. Because that was all he could really hope for. There was no way in hell that Haley would ever walk out of the life now, not after that. She was there and she was going to stay. Nothing was going to scare her off, and both brothers knew that. All they could do was watch her back, the same way that they knew she was watching theirs. The three of them kept each other safe, because Winchesters didn't watch their own backs, they watched their sibling's, while their siblings watched them. In that logic, they kept each other alive. And that was good enough.

* * *

><p><em>Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Thank you so much for reading!<em>

_The first half of next chapter is really going to be around Dean's line "I need a drink...or twelve.", if that gives you a clue, because who doesn't love a drunk Winchester? ;-) there is going to be a lot of Haley/Dean/Sam stuff in there, as well as some Haley/Cas._

_As usual, NEXT UPDATE WILL BE FRIDAY! Have a great weekend, guys! :-)_


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